


Imagine You and You (and You) and Me

by RomancebyFaye



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Avengers, Humor, Includes Art, M/M, Multiple Personalities, Nightmares, Not Canon Compliant, Not too crazy but just to be safe, Or Author attempts at humor, Platonic Bedsharing, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Romaticization of Multiple Personalities, Soulmarks, Soulwords, Team as Family, Winter Soldier as a Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 02:50:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13695336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomancebyFaye/pseuds/RomancebyFaye
Summary: Steve and Bucky both have two soulmates. When Bucky falls, Steve goes into the ice not long after. He wakes up decades in the future and has a rough introduction to his other soulmate, Tony Stark.Neither man seem too enthused about the revelation, and Steve is slightly surprised when Tony makes no demands of him or even uncovers his soulwords. Turns out, Stark doesn't think too highly of soulbonds. Still, they manage to work together and Steve comes to realize he might have misjudged Tony.He's working up the nerve to try and make this more than a friendship when Bucky turns out to be alive. And not quite alone.Or, Steve is jealous of cuddles and bed sharing, Tony has no expectations of his soulmates because his soulwords are extra crappy, Bucky is sharing his psyche with the Asset, and all of them are on a converging path to falling in love.A collaboration for WinterIronShield Bang, 2017.





	Imagine You and You (and You) and Me

**Author's Note:**

> I was lucky enought to be chosen by not one, but two amazing artists for the WinterIronShieldBang. This is my first time participating and also my first fic writing this pairing. I had a great time and was absolutely floored by the work of my two artists. I hope you guys enjoy our contribution to the Stuckony fandom.
> 
>  
> 
> [Check out art from empty-crayon-box!](http://empty-crayon-box.tumblr.com/post/170907235340/my-art-for-romancebyfayes-imagine-you-and-you)
> 
>  
> 
> [And Check out art from novarain01!](https://novarain01.tumblr.com/post/170910337756/winterironshield-bang-tonys-ad-tonys)
> 
>  
> 
> [And another from novarain01!](https://novarain01.tumblr.com/post/170910518071/winterironshield-bang-super-soldier-snuggle-steve)

Imagine You and You (and You) and Me

By RomancebyFaye

 

 

Steve Rogers had two soulmates. And while having more than one isn't unheard of, it’s also not in any way a common occurrence. The evidence of one was written in brief black on his right wrist, _‘Hi, I’m Bucky’_ , it said, and it was matched by his best friend and later lover in an equally succinct _‘I’m Steve’_ on James ‘Bucky’ Barnes right wrist.

 

His left though…

 

He kept it covered, as was custom for words when you hadn’t met the other half of them. And, oh boy, it was a long one, wrapping around and around - and around - his arm from wrist to almost the crook of his elbow.

 

Bucky had a second one, too. Apparently it also was a long one, but in spite of all they shared, they decided not to share those. After all, most of the time when people had two soulmates it was for not so great reasons: one of you died, one of you cheated, you split up by choice or other circumstances. There was always the possibility of them being in a three way bond, but those were extremely rare. Of course, they could have compared them, but there was always the chance they would see something they didn't like.

 

When he and Bucky finally became lovers they had talked about their second soulwords at length, but had eventually decided they would rather not know. It was easier that way. They trusted each other, and they promised if either of them met the other of their bonds, they would each be the first to know.

 

Things happened as they got older, Bucky was accepted to serve in the military while Steve was not. They were separated when Bucky was shipped out. Steve knew from the second set of words on his wrist that he was destined to be a soldier, and it turned out to be true, if not at all in the way he had expected.

 

The serum changed his body - not his heart, not who he was - and allowed him to become more than his physical form would have ever survived. He and Bucky were reunited, Steve finally able to return some of the rescuing Bucky had always done for him. They were together again, soulmates and brothers in arms, the two of them against the world.

 

But Steve _knew_ they each had another person they were destined to meet out there somewhere, which is why he did not understand how everything had gone to hell as he - unable to reach his dearest friend and lover in time - watched Bucky fall to his death, or when he crashed to what he was sure would be his own as icy water engulfed him.

 

*****

 

Tony Stark was not expecting anything from his soulmates. He didn’t believe in all that crap anyways. His parents had been soulmates, but they certainly hadn't been a great example of a healthy relationship. His parents had been soulmates, and they had destroyed each other piece by piece, so his belief in the words as law had been destroyed early on. But Rhodey’s parents, who had been kind and warm, welcoming and so very, very obviously devoted to each other...they had shown him that you didn’t need words to love someone.

 

He didn't have anything against the people out there who found their matches and made those lifelong bonds, he just didn't think that would be the case for himself. The words just meant the potential was there, it most certainly wasn't the end all be all of who you were supposed to be with.

 

He of all people knew just how hard he was to love.

 

Besides, the antiquated ideas and ideals about soulbonds were changing every day. There were activists out there in the world now, people banding together and shucking the idea of bonds that tied you to someone without a choice. Groups of people who had defied the words on their skin to be with those they had chosen for themselves. Support groups for those who had been abused by their supposed destined ones, for those without names on their skin, for those in bonds of three or four or more or chose to make those bonds themselves.

 

It wasn't unheard of to see people with tattoos that covered the words that had once been on someone's wrist. There was even a popular musician who had his words crossed out and someone else's words tattooed under the original ones.

 

Over the last generations movements had risen against the societal norms and pressure of saving yourself for your soulmate or changing yourself for them.

 

There was still plenty of prejudice though, and it wasn't unusual for people to be attacked or slandered because they dared to be with those whose words weren't on their skin. At least now there were laws in place to protect those who suffered from idiots like that.

 

There were organizations that were advocates of those outside traditional soulbonds.Tony himself had posed in one of the celebrity editions of an anti hate movement, his marks covered with makeup - the first layer applied by his own hands - and ‘ _Your words here’_ painted on in their place. He was pretty proud of that photo and all it stood for and the organization was still one of his favorite charities.

 

Soulwords had once been intensely private things, only uncovered when one met their match. Nowadays some chose to go uncovered, but in spite of his own nontraditional beliefs, Tony did not show his. For one thing, he was a public figure and well known billionaire - and an infamous playboy. He didn't need someone seeing his words and scheming some way to fake a meet cute.

 

But the main reason was the words were so… negative. Tony's own words were hardly the kind to inspire any hope at the ridiculous and over romanticized love at first sight bullshit. No matter what he might have dreamed about in moments of weakness he would never admit. He was pushing forty and still hasn't encountered either of his own, but that didn't stop him from living life to the fullest. He might lack soulmates, but he certainly didn't have trouble finding people to fill his bed for the night.

 

At least, not until Afghanistan.

 

But it was harder to hop in and out of bed with people when you had screaming nightmares and panic attacks on a regular basis. Nevermind having to explain the slowly creeping black lines of poison that were spreading from the new permanent body jewelry that kept his pathetic excuse of a heart beating.

 

No thanks. After his imprisonment all his time was spent with his armor, developing Iron Man as a way to try and make a tiny bit of difference for all the blood on his hands.

 

Things seemed to be looking up when he invented a new element - yay! - that wouldn't slowly poison him to death even as it delayed shrapnel from having a life ending orgy with his heart.

 

Of course, he then had his shiny new heart literally torn from his chest by a man he considered his closest thing to a father.

 

Cue blowing up stuff and killing said father figure and his eventual tanglement with the organization known as SHIELD.

 

Yeah. Life was a bitch.

 

And then one day, he got a call from none other than Nick Fury to meet the newly defrosted Captain America. The thing was, Captain America was an honest to God legend, and Tony was actually genuinely _excited_ to meet him.

 

He should have known life was just gearing up for another solid kick straight to the groin.

 

He had forced himself to pause outside the door separating him from his first meeting with the resurrected legend, giving himself a good shake to settle his nerves some before he slapped on his most charming smile, spreading his arms as he burst into the room and said, “Well, hellooo soldier, it is so _very_ nice to actually meet you! You're certainly a sight for sore eyes. And please, can I just say, _God bless America_!”

 

And yeah, he may have waggled his eyebrows a bit and given the man a rather obvious once over full of unconcealed appreciation, but he sure as shit wasn’t expecting the tone of shocked disgust that matched the words on his skin to come from Captain fucking America.

 

_“Impossible.”_

 

And yep, there it was, the not-so-promising word living up to the disappointment he had always expected, inscribed short and sweet right there on his right wrist.

 

It was a good thing only the first words were inscribed on skin, because Tony was pretty sure Captain America might hate him even more if he’d had to go through life with the litany of cursing that followed that revelation.

 

*****

 

It didn’t get any better.

 

Steve had to admit he didn’t really try either, but gods above, Tony was so _difficult_. He knew just how to dig into all the tender spots Captain America shouldn't have, but then again he wasn’t just the Captain, he was Steve Rogers. And even though he had woken up decades in the future, losing Bucky was as fresh a pain as yesterday. And Anthony Stark, well, he didn’t do anything to try and redeem himself.

 

He was arrogant and sarcastic, contrary just to be so, terrible at following orders and seemingly hellbent on self destructive behavior. But worst of all, he was selfish, putting his own ego above the good of his fellow teammates, and that right there was all Steve needed to know.

 

It took him watching Tony fly through a wormhole on what everyone had believed would be a one way trip for Steve to begin to realize how wrong he was.

 

And then Tony kept on showing him.

 

And _damn,_ but did Steve have to eat his words from back then when the only person who Tony didn't somehow find a way to take care of was the man himself.

 

At the man's bull headed insistence, all the Avengers were moved into Stark Tower - or Avengers Tower as it was renamed - each with their own _floor_. Every amenity they could have dreamed of was offered without comment. There was always food, and not just any food, but each person's favorites somehow magically appeared in the pantry. In both the communal floor and their personal floor.

 

Tony would stay down in his workshop for days on end, coming out to show Natasha her fancy new knives or spy gear, or Clint a new arrow or bow he’s been working on, or new body armor or modifications or upgrades for whomever he had decided to improve that particular manic creative spell.

 

He designed the team training simulations and another three entire floors are completely cleared out and rebuilt just for that purpose. There are so many other  amenities that have nothing to do with training added and Steve can’t wrap his brain around how much money is spent on all of them. ‘It's for the team, Capsicle! Laser tag is a great group exercise, and so what if there are bowling lanes and pool tables that rise from the floor! It's good for morale!’

 

Natasha has a set up in her own kitchen that would make any bakery jealous. She was as nimble with pastries and piping bags as she was with her Widow’s Bite. And if you pissed her off, she wouldn’t share her latest creation with you. Yet another thing to be afraid of her for.

 

Her first batch of goodies had been startlingly accurate renditions of Iron Man’s helmet that had Tony grinning ear to ear before making grabby hands and shoving two in his mouth at once with an obscene moan. Natasha had even smiled at the spray of crumbs that resulted.

 

Steve had seen one of those cookies, encased in a heavy block of clear resin, sitting in Tony's workshop months later.

 

Clint was apparently a very skilled knitter, and he could often be found perched on top of something making the most intricate designs in scarves, sweaters, socks, hats, blankets and whatever else with an apparently endless supply of yarns that probably cost more than Steve’s entire wardrobe, even after it had been upgraded.

 

He had made a beautiful scarf of twining red and gold that echoed the lines of the Iron Man suit and gifted it Tony, who had actually looked for a second like he might tear up before he wrapped it around his neck with an enormous grin and wore it everywhere for an entire week. He’d only taken it off after Dum-E had almost ruined it with an unnecessary fire intervention.

 

It had still seen so much use that Clint had noticed its fraying edges one day and sighed like he was _incredibly_ annoyed. But soon Tony had a small collection of scarves in different colors and patterns.

 

Bruce has his very own lab, equipped with more shiny and scientific looking things than Steve had ever seen, even being the product of experimentation himself. And whenever Bruce looked like he was thinking about disappearing and no one else seemed to be able to shake his mood, Tony would suddenly need help with something in the lab and no one but ‘Brucie bear, my love, my life, my rare equally sciencey genius pal’ would do.

 

And Bruce was always there for the crazy genius of Tony when he needed another eye or someone to talk science with.

 

Even Thor was promised his weekly attendance-not-optional movie nights, Tony grumbling non-stop but showing up every Thursday - really? Could it have been any other night? - without fail. Sometimes he’d be covered in grease and oil, hair a wreck, his face streaked with soot or worse, smelling singed and pretty much looking every inch like the mad scientist he was, but he always showed.

 

Often he fell asleep on the couch and whoever he was sitting with that night would shift him onto their lap or cuddle him with varying degrees of fondness.

 

Steve never failed to notice that Tony always avoided sitting near him. He couldn't decide if he was relieved or not, so he tried to act disinterested. When Nat was the snuggle of the night, she always gave Steve a look that let him know he wasn't actually fooling anyone.

 

It was just so strange, waking up in a new world and being slapped in the face with a soulmate when for all intents and purposes you had just lost your first one.

 

He still felt guilty, knowing the first word he had spoken to Tony was so negative, such a rejection. That it was sitting there, hidden by the always present black soulsleeves Tony wore on each of his arms. Of course, Steve still had his from Tony covered too, so it wasn’t like he had any right at all to be offended.

 

Their status as soulmates aside, they still danced around each other with cautious politeness, unless Tony was in one of his moods, in which case they snarled and snapped at each other until Steve or Tony fled- _retreated._

 

He kept telling himself it didn’t matter, he didn’t expect anything from Tony, soulbond or no. So what if his words were what had driven Steve over and over to join the military? Had cemented his resolve by the sharp lines of ‘Well, hellooo soldier’ stamped on his skin? (And wasn’t it just like Tony, that he was the reason Steve actually had a ‘hello’ with three ‘o’s on his skin?)

 

But it seemed the personal touch Tony had done for all the others wasn’t going to be forgone for Steve, no matter how tense their relationship was. After all, it turned out Tony was remarkably good at giving others what they didn’t even realize they needed.

 

And for Steve, well.

 

Steve had woken up one morning to a room newly equipped with a gorgeous drafting desk, easels, canvases and sketchpads of every size he could imagine and a fortune in pencils, charcoal, pastels, watercolors, oils, acrylics and damn near any other supplies he could have thought of plus quite a few others he couldn't.

 

But the thing that really, really made him realize how wrong he was was sitting on the sleek glass drafting desk.

 

It was a plain, tiny thing among all the modern trappings and unused art supplies, the moleskine cover worn smooth along the top edge from where it had been gripped repeatedly, over and over. It was so familiar, something he had carried from mission to mission, but he certainly had never expected to see it again.

 

He opened it, the cover folding back along the weathered crease, bending to show sketches he had done a lifetime ago and yet no time ago at all.

 

His fingers trembled as he flipped carefully through the pages, many of them the face of his dead soulmate. With utmost care, he closed it after he had looked through the entire thing, clutching it to his chest as he fell back on the bed and wept truly for the first time since had woken up in this strange and lonely new world.

 

When he had finished, he felt calmer, like a weight he’d been carrying for miles had suddenly disappeared.

 

“JARVIS?” Steve asked as he stood, sketchbook held in his hands.

 

“Yes, Captain Rogers?” The AI was crisply polite, it always was with him even though it would quip fondly with the others and was downright sassy to its creator.

 

Steve couldn’t say he blamed him.

 

“Could you tell me where Tony is?”

 

*****

 

After the sketchbook and art supplies, Steve apologized.

 

It was weird.

 

Tony hadn’t given him all that stuff to make him feel guilty, and he’d been a bit peeved that Steve had reacted that way. He’d said as much and turned to run to his workshop but a hand on his arm had stopped him.

 

“Tony,” Steve had said, his voice so earnest it made Tony’s skin feel too tight. “Please, I want to start over, can we do that? Do you think we can- Will you let me start over, please?”

 

And, god help him, he couldn’t say no to that, no matter how much he wanted to.

 

Things changed.

 

Steve made him food. On a regular basis.

 

If Tony was in the lab for more than forty eight hours on a non urgent project, he’d cajole and wheedle until Tony at least took a nap.

 

He had coffee already ready on the rare occasion when Tony rolled out of bed and came down in time to join in on team breakfast.

 

He would come to the workshop and sit for hours, sketching or reading or napping, while Tony worked.

 

It didn’t seem to matter that Tony would completely forget he was there. He would be talking in equations or zipping through ideas and inspirations, cursing or chatting at JARVIS and Dum-E and U and Butterfingers and listening to music way too loud before turning to find Steve Rogers sleeping or drawing on the couch or pushing a sandwich in between him and whatever he was working on.

 

It was _weird_.

 

And worse, Tony was beginning to _like_ it.

 

*****

 

It was a Thursday, which meant movie night.

 

They were all beat. Some bumbling sorcerer wannabe had managed to open a portal to another dimension and let in a horde of giant centipede-like aliens.

 

They apparently found earth metals to be very tasty. By some miracle, no one had been killed, and between the team they had managed to keep the damage to one city block. Pretty much all of the cars - and lampposts, and street signs, and traffic lights, et cetera - on that block however, were missing large chunks in the shape of giant centipede mouths.

 

Iron Man and Thor had been aerial support, herding the creatures while Hawkeye, Black Widow, and himself had finished off the rest of them. The Hulk had been able to sit this one out and Bruce was on duty this time, working with the scientist to make sure there would be no more portals popping up.

 

During the fight, there had been a hairy moment where one of the larger critters had tried to take a bite out of the Iron Man armor, apparently deciding it looked tasty.

 

Curiously they didn't seem interested in Captain America’s shield.

 

Thor had zapped the hungry alien, but not before it had managed to damage the thruster on Tony’s left boot.

 

Tony had taken a tumble right into a giant fountain in the lobby of a financial firm. The resulting displacement of water was pretty fantastic. It had taken Tony a minute to get his suit back in order, resulting in a struggle that turned out to look rather dashing, what with the sprays of water and steam his repulsors caused. Clint had gotten hold of the security video to show everyone as soon as they had debriefed and returned home.

 

Bruce had suggested putting the video to music and Thor had posted it to YouTube. It was racking up some heavy views already and the trio were pretty proud. When they showed it to Tony he had smirked and said, “It’ll be viral by morning.”

 

Steve shook his head, still a little shocked that all that made perfect sense to him.

 

Tony was the last one to stumble into the movie room, and from the look on his face, everyone could tell tonight would be a sleep and snuggle type night for him. Tony had been on another inventing streak the past few days, so he had been sleep deprived even before the assembly call.

 

Thor had been missing Jane lately - she was currently in the late stages of sensitive research - so he had been more than happy to take the couch with Tony. They skipped the part of waiting for Tony to fall asleep first, Thor instead laying back with his head propped on the armrest and pulling Tony down on his chest.

 

Steve still hadn't gotten up the nerve to sit next to Tony during movie night so the flash of jealousy was no one's fault but his own. He berated himself a bit, reminding his brain that he and Tony were _friends_ . Still, the sight of the giant god of thunder holding Tony’s more compact frame was pretty adorable. They weren't even five minutes into _James and the Giant Peach_ before Tony was fast asleep.

 

*****

 

Steve opened his eyes, something having pulled him awake. His time in the field had conditioned him to be alert at the slightest warning, and now he scanned the room for whatever his brain had registered as a threat.

 

He noticed he was not the only one awake; Natasha was alert also, as was Clint, who had been sleeping in her lap. A pained sound snapped all their attention to the couch holding Tony and Thor, and it was apparent the blonde god was also awake now.

 

Bruce shifted up from his sprawled position next to Steve, joining the rest of the group to watch where Tony was beginning to make increasingly distressed noises.

 

No one but Steve seemed to be alarmed.

 

As he looked on, Tony began to grow more agitated, his voice rising in distress. During the movie he had slipped towards the back of the couch, his left arm and leg thrown over Thor. As Steve looked on, Tony began to struggle, his left hand rising to paw at his own chest. Thor grasped Tony’s wrist, turning his large frame and pressing Tony back into the couch.

 

A white hot rage and need to protect flared through Steve. He didn’t even realize he was standing until both Bruce and Natasha took hold of him, pulling him firmly back.

 

“Don’t,” Natasha said, her voice soft but unyielding. It caused Steve to pull up short, but he still turned to her, confusion in his eyes.

 

“Thor’s not hurting him,” Bruce offered softly.

 

Steve was just about to ask what the hell he was doing then when he heard the deep rumble of Thor’s voice. It filled the room, even though it was only a fraction of its normal volume.

 

“Do not be afraid, comrade. You are safe. You are with friends and we will not suffer you to be harmed.”

 

Steve looked back to the pair entangled on the couch, noting how Thor had Tony’s wrist firmly in his grip but only using enough strength to keep the man’s hand from clawing at the soft glow of the arc reactor visible through Tony’s worn t-shirt. Thor’s voice continued, a steady litany in a calm and rhythmic cadence, filling the silence of the room under the vigil of all the others.  

 

“You are merely dreaming. The demons you see are long past from this world, vanquished by your hands and the hands of you allies and friends. They cannot harm you again. Do not fear, my friend. I will guard your rest.”

 

Steve stood in tense quiet, listening as Thor continued on and on, it was probably only minutes, but it felt exponentially longer before Tony finally stopped struggling against Thor’s hold, slipping once again into quiet and snuggling back into the other man.

 

Thor released Tony’s arm, and pulled the smaller frame onto himself as he turned them from pressing into the back of the couch, his arms gentle where they carefully held the now quietly sleeping genius.

 

Steve turned to Natasha, ready to demand an explanation, but she was moving back to where she had been sitting with Clint, a look in her eye that kept Steve quiet. Bruce was sitting back down also, nodding his head at the spot next to him where Steve had been asleep before Tony had woken him. As he watched, they all settled back, falling into relaxed poses and Natasha arching her brow at him until he did the same before she quietly asked JARVIS to start another movie.

 

Steve sat in tense silence, unable to focus on the film. It’s obvious the others are no strangers to Tony’s...whatever that had been. It sits wrongly against his heart, a shivering anger at being left out of whatever this strange pact is between them all.

 

It’s not because it’s _Tony_ , it’s just that he doesn’t like not knowing what’s happening with his team.

 

That’s what he tells himself at least.

 

It’s probably half an hour since JARVIS had started up the movie when Thor shifts, sliding Tony to lie on the couch. Steve watches as he moves Tony to roll onto his back before he carefully lifts him, one hand under his knees and one behind his back as he gathers the sleeping form to his chest. He glances over his shoulder, nodding at Natasha and giving Steve a strange look before he disappears, carrying a still sleeping Tony with him.

 

Steve waits until the pair is completely out of the room before he whirls on Natasha with a hissed, “What the hell? I thought Thor was with-”

 

“Shut up, Steve,” Bruce interrupts, his voice deceptively soft. When he looks at the scientist, there’s faint green around his eyes. “Whatever you're about to suggest about Thor or Tony, just- shut up. You should know enough by now that Thor is crazy about Jane. And apart from that, in spite of what you think about Tony, he would never try to split someone up, especially knowing that they are soulmates.”

 

Of course Steve does know that, he _knows_ , but he’s so shaken by the events he’s just witnessed, by the fact that the others obviously share something about Tony that he doesn’t - It’s thrown him.

 

“He has nightmares,” Clint says, his eyes opening to peer at Steve. “Bad ones.” Almost as if speaking to himself he added, “It was probably the spill he took in the fountain.”

 

“Okay,” Steve answers, still confused. “Can JARVIS not wake him up when he has them?”

 

“I only do so when absolutely necessary,” the AI says. “The results of waking him are...unpredictable at best.”

 

“Unpredictable how?” Steve asks.

 

When JARVIS isn’t forthcoming, Natasha speaks up.

 

“He’s fired a repulsor blast more than once before he realized where he was.”

 

“He keeps a repulsor by his bed?!”

 

“You keep your shield by yours, Captain Rogers.” JARVIS’ tone is positively icy.

 

“Yeah, well I don’t-” he stops short. Because that’s a lie right there, he most certainly does have nightmares, and more than once, he’s reached for the familiar weight of his shield where it rests by his bed.

 

“Indeed,” JARVIS says.

 

Natasha continues like no one has interrupted, “Once, J couldn’t wake him, and by the time Bruce got to him...Well, we all forget how strong Tony is, even outside of the armor. Those muscles of his didn’t come from some fancy trainer. It took three of us to keep him from tearing the reactor out.

 

“After that, we all started taking turns on nightmare duty, learning how to keep him calm when they hit until he goes out of REM and settles back down.”

 

“So you what? Take turns sleeping with him every night?” Steve asks, aware his voice doesn’t sound quite right.

 

“Yes.” Natasha finishes.

 

“Why didn’t anyone tell me about this? I’m supposed to be the team leader, I think this is something I should have known.”

 

“Ignoring that fact that you only recently began to act like you even _like_ Tony,” Bruce starts, “we all have our own personal demons. _Personal_ , Steven.

 

“If you think that being the team leader entitles you to a front row to each of our very own shit shows, then you’re not nearly as bright as I’ve come to believe you are. Maybe if you stopped acting like you’re the epitome of calm and collected more often, the rest of us could become more comfortable showing you those types of things.”

 

At that, Bruce stands and stalks out of the room. Steve is left stunned, turning the normally quiet man’s words over in his head. It’s the first time he’s heard Bruce speak so impassioned, and his words hold up a mirror to a few rather unflattering truths Steve finds he can’t deny. He feels ashamed.

 

Natasha stands, resting her hand on Steve’s shoulder and squeezing lightly.

 

“I know Tony is difficult. We all know he’s no saint. But as much as anyone else paints him the villain, he’s done it a thousand times over. He doesn’t think himself worthy of love and so he doesn’t ask for it or understand it from others. He has been shown all his life that the ones he cares for the most are the ones who hurt him the most. It’s easier for him to keep people like that at arms length. People like _you_ at arm's length.”

 

“What do you mean,” Steve hedged, “‘people like me?’”

 

She just arched an eyebrow and ran her finger across her covered right wrist.

 

Steve blanched. He should have known out of all of them, Nat would figure it out.

 

“Why do you think out of all of us, you're the only one not on nightmare duty?”

 

Steve honestly had no idea; it must have shown on his face because here Natasha dropped down, putting herself level with Steve’s eyes.

 

“When any of us are in his bed, there’s nothing more there than a guardian. He is vulnerable with us, yes, but it’s not the same kind of thing it would be between you two. You know he feels soulwords shouldn’t bind you to someone: he’s seen enough of the damage that comes from supposed soulmates when things go wrong.

 

“If you want to be on nightmare watch, you need to really think about what you want from Tony. And you need to be okay with it if Tony doesn’t want the same. If you’re thinking about being allowed in Tony’s bed, you’d better be damn sure you’re going to stay there. And I don’t mean as his teammate or team leader. I mean as whatever Tony is comfortable with, whether it’s a friend or something more.” With another squeeze to Steve’s shoulder, Natasha stood.

 

“I guess this is the hurt him and I’ll kill you talk?” Steve asked, aiming for levity and failing.

 

“No,” Clint said, stepping up next to Natasha. “It’s the hurt him and _we_ will kill you talk. Believe me when I say that includes Bruce, the Other Guy, and Thor." With that, Clint left the room.

 

Natasha turned to follow, looking back at the door and saying, “I can't imagine what losing your soulmate felt like, but Steve, Bucky is gone. He's dead, and he has been a long time. Maybe not for you, but either way, he's not here. Tony is. Grieve and move on. Bucky’s not coming back.”

 

Except he did.

 

*****

 

So the Winter Soldier turned out to be none other than Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky Barnes, Captain America’s first and best friend, comrade, and lover.

 

And soulmate. Let’s not forget that.

 

Tony was just glad he didn’t believe in all that crap. Especially since the reveal meant that Steve Rogers was never around, running like mad here and there to stop the Winter Soldier and try and get his Bucky back.

 

And of course he did, because that was what happened for the pie in the sky, red white and blue Captain America.

 

But right on the heels of that selfishly fueled thought Tony cringed inwardly, knowing that thought wasn't fair, not at all. Because even though he’d only glimpsed a tiny bit of the pain in Steve, Tony knew that Steve really never got much of anything. His awakening from the ice had left him stripped of all he had known and loved by the unyielding and inexorable stretch of time.

 

That was something Tony couldn't imagine even though he was a self proclaimed futurist. What good would anything be to him if he woke up tomorrow to find that Rhodey, Pepper, JARVIS and even Dum-e, U, and Butterfingers had faded into death and beyond his reach? That this new little family he has made of the broken and flawed, courageous, beautiful and strong beyond imagining had disappeared?

 

He shuddered, certain he would not have found the will to keep going.

 

But Steve had not only kept going, he had found the strength to _live_ as well _._

 

And now, through the very impossible reach of time itself, something of incomprehensible worth to Steve had managed to return to him

 

Tony couldn't begrudge him that, not at all. Bucky was Steve’s soulmate, a real, proper soulmate, the kind that they wrote stories and songs about.

 

So Tony was fine with not seeing Steve, with not looking up to find him there with food or just existing in his space. He was _fine_ , he just needed some time to get back to the status quo. He just needed a little distraction until his heart stopped twinging and there was nothing like throwing himself into work to accomplish that goal. It should be a piece of cake, he was Tony Stark after all - he had big important Stark Industries stuff that surely needed his attention.

 

Or he would, once he talked to Pepper.

 

*****

 

“Tony, not that I want to discourage your sudden interest, but we both know something else is going on.” Pepper’s voice wasn’t exactly kind, but Tony could see the worry in her eyes as JARVIS projected her in the workshop.

 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about Pep. Can’t a man take an interest in his own company? I thought you liked it when I rubbed elbows with the bigwigs?”

 

“ _Tony_.”

 

Tony looked down and toyed with the wires from his latest repulsor model.

 

“Bucky’s back. Or, he’s coming back. I already told Steve to move him in here. Demanded it really.”

 

Why? Because he has a masochistic streak ten miles wide. And if he hadn’t, he had no doubt he would never get to see Steve again. Well, maybe not never, but close enough.

“Oh, Tony.”

 

Yeah. And that was not the tone he wanted to hear right now.

 

“It’s fine. You know I don’t believe in all that soulmate stuff. Or, not for me anyway. If you or Rhodey weren’t my soulmates, then there’s no one out that that could put up with me. It’s probably a fluke anyways - Steve being mine I mean - some mixed point of data that corrected itself when Bucky turned out to be - surprise! Alive!”

 

“Tony,” Pepper started again.

 

“Yeah, that’s my name. You can keep saying it, I mean, I don’t mind, but it’s not going to change anything.” He scrubbed his hand through his hair, rubbing grease he had forgotten about through the sweaty locks. “I just need to be - somewhere else when they get here. I...I _like_ Steve. I want him to be happy. He’s only like _half_ the asshole I thought he was, but I don’t want to sit around and watch them make moon eyes at each other, at least not right away.”

 

“Well,” Pepper said, “I can certainly get you to go to some meetings, but honestly, there’s nothing big going on in the next month. You’d know that if you paid attention to our fiscal year at all. If you wanted, I could set up some meetings with our branch in Tokyo, they’d be happy to see you and you know they have some of the best R&D staff there, too.”

 

It was tempting, run off to do business while the lovebirds got settled in, but he’d be too far if anything happened and the Avengers were needed. Damn. When had he started thinking about more than his own comfort?

 

He rubbed his fingers across the arc reactor and remembered exactly when.

 

“Thanks, but I guess I’ll just suck it up and hide out here. It’s not like I can’t live in the workshop, I’ve done it before.”

 

“That’s very brave of you.” Pepper’s voice was soft and when Tony looked at her, the gentle approval was evident in her eyes. “You still have another soulmate. I know you don’t believe in it, and that’s fine, I’ll support whoever you want to be with as long as they treat you well. But don’t just dismiss it out of hand when you find your other one - and you will find them Tony, I just know it will happen for you.”

 

Tony thought of the other words etched in his skin, even worse than the short ‘Impossible.’ on his other wrist. But Pepper had never seen them, only Rhodey had, once back at MIT. And he had smiled a sad smile at Tony and told him that people change, people's opinions change and that the person who said those words would obviously not know the real Tony.

 

Now he was afraid they meant the opposite.

 

He shook his head, pushing the memory away as he focused his attention back on the projection of the waiting Pepper.

 

“Thank you, Pep. Tell Happy I said hi.”

 

“I will. Call me if you need me.”  
  
“I always do. Bye. Love you.”

 

“Love you, too.”

 

*****

 

The next day JARVIS let Tony know that Steve was back, Bucky in tow. Natasha, Clint, and Bruce were all in attendance, too. Thor was off in Asgard doing whatever he did when he wasn’t on Earth. Tony took this as an opportunity to skip Thursday movie night, the first one he had skipped since its inception.

 

Tony stuck with his tried and true avoidance method: he hid in his workshop.

 

He kept the lab on lockdown, no one in or out unless a dire emergency should occur. He had smoothie fodder and his bots for company and he threw himself headfirst into a new project or ten. He worked, he listened to really loud music, he told himself it was okay, that he hadn’t started to get his hopes up, that soulmates were only good for other people who were willing to work at making the bond real.

 

People like Steve, not people like Tony.

 

Plus, Bucky was probably even more fucked up than Tony was, and that was saying something. Their bond had been formed before Tony was a twinkle in Howard’s eye - or maybe a mote in his eye was more accurate. Point was, Bucky and Steve went way back. Way, _way_ back, like a lifetime back - and Steve and Tony? Well, they hadn’t even went... _anywhere_ really.

 

But he had begun to feel they _could_ have, and that was the problem.

 

Tony knew he would be fine, he would get over it because that’s what he did. He could write the ‘how to’ book of avoidance and coping by distraction and over working until his issues were under enough control he could face the world again.

 

Usually anyway.

 

When he finally hit his plateau, Tony wasn’t sure how long he’d been on a manic work bender; the line of dirty smoothie containers told him at least four days, assuming he had eaten at least once or twice each of those days. He’d only slept in snatches, his brain sinking into his newest project until he was bone deep with exhaustion. He knew he needed to sleep, but he was in that nearly drugged like state of sleep deprivation. He didn’t want to make the trek to his bedroom or get JARVIS to call up whoever was on nightmare watch right now.

 

The couch would have to do.

 

*****

 

_It was cold, so very cold. JARVIS was calling Pepper, but she wasn’t answering. One by one his lights blinked out as the suit pushed deeper into the nothingness. A flash of light, bright and blinding even past his closed eyelids and he was falling, falling…_

 

_Water pushed into his nostrils, burning in his lungs as he fought desperately for oxygen. The men around him sneered as his chest burned, fingers reaching in to clench around his heart. Obie smiled, gentle and kind as he pulled his heart out, picking out slivers of shrapnel from the red muscle, lines of fire etching out as poison seeped further and further into the bloody hole in his chest. Yinsen needed him, he had to get Yinsen out and he couldn’t do that if the poison killed him first._

 

“Jesus!” _someone was saying._ “Grab his arms!”

 

_But he didn’t want them to grab his arms, he had to get the poison out, it was killing him._

 

“Tony, Tony wake up!” _No, No, Yinsen, he had to save Yinsen!_

 

Pain blossomed bright and golden across his cheek and Tony jerked up, dragging someone halfway across the couch as he screamed “Yinsen!” at the top of his lungs. He bucked his body, struggling to get away, to get to his fellow captive before another burst of pain shot through his knee as he wrenched it against what turned out to be Bruce’s not insignificant weight.

 

“Tony! You’re not there, you’re not in Afghanistan!” someone was saying from behind him.

 

His eyes shifted frantically, finally falling on red hair hanging down on either side of a fine boned face.  
  
“Nat?” Tony finally managed, his voice raw to his own ears. He looked around, noticing Dum-E hovering by the open door.

 

“Hey. Hey there,” she said, a thread of relief in her voice. “You back with us?”

 

He blinked a few more times, trying to relax his rigid muscles one at a time like she had taught him to do a while back. At the same time he tried working on settling his breathing, but he couldn’t seem to get it right. His chest hurt, a deep throbbing ache that lacked all the grounding brightness of the sharp slap to his cheek. He looked down and saw blood.

 

“It’s alright. We’ve got you,” Clint was saying from behind him, pulling Tony back against his chest, Bruce was moving off from where he had straddled Tony’s legs.

 

“Here, just breathe with Clint, Tony,” Bruce was saying.

 

“That’s it,” Nat said softly, her fingers deft as they pulled at his grimy tank top, a pair of safety shears emerging from somewhere and easily parting the fabric. Tony reached trembling fingers up to the arc reactor, noting the furrows of blood dug in their shape and the flesh under his nails before Bruce gently took one hand and Natasha the other. His breath hitched, and Clint placed a hand over his eyes, encouraging him to lean his head back to rest against a shoulder.

 

“You’re fine. You're okay.” Clint’s voice was even, lulling Tony to relax a bit more. “Just breathe with me. In...Out...In...Out. Don’t rush it, you’ve got all the air you need, it’ll come to you.”

 

The three of them took turns talking to him, just muttering gentle reassurances and god help him, he was so very grateful. His mind slowly came back online, registering the pain more acutely, but also the sense of safety Nat, Clint, and Bruce were all exuding.

 

Tony struggled briefly when Bruce had to touch the reactor while he cleaned the deep scratches and gouges on his chest. He did so quickly, careful not to hurt Tony or linger near the device, before he moved to his fingers. Tony hissed as one fingernail was cleaned, the pain was from where it had torn deep into the quick, probably from digging into the edge of the reactor. He dully noted it was at least not on his left hand.

 

Nat was running her fingers firmly over him, grounding him and checking for injury. When she reached his knee, he let out a whimper.

 

“We’ll need to ice that, keep it elevated.” She paused, adding in a tone that was not to be trifled with. “You need to stay off of it for at least two days.”

“‘Kay,” Tony said without complaint.

 

Honestly, he didn’t have the energy to argue right now. God, he was so fucking exhausted, even more than the engineering bender had left him. The bad nightmares always did that.

 

“We need to get you to bed, well to a shower first, and then a bed. Bruce, do you think you can carry him?” Natasha asked, satisfied with her assessment of his injuries.

 

“I can, but I’m not so sure about the knee.”

 

“Don’t look at me,” Clint said. “Have you tried to pick this guy up? He ain’t exactly a lightweight, even if he is short.”

 

“Come on guys,” Tony whined softly. “I almost tore my own heart out, I think I can hobble to the elevator at least.”

 

The heavy silence that followed told him his joke was not appreciated.

 

After a few moments, Bruce offered softly, “We could get JARVIS to call Steve.”  
  
That woke Tony up.

 

All three pairs of eyes snapped to him.

 

“Tony, you do _not_ need to be walking on that knee,” Clint reasoned, but Tony was having none of it.

“I flew around in my damn suit halfway dead from palladium poisoning, I can get to a bed without you calling in Captain America from his honeymoon with his boyfriend!”

 

They all pointedly looked anywhere but at each other, which to Tony was the same as them all exchanging deep and meaningful glances.

 

Tony could just picture it: Steve, coming down to carry him to his bedroom. No doubt he’d be all soft and sleepy eyed, probably smelling like Steve and...No. The point was Steve equals no.

 

God, his brain felt like hot gum on the bottom of someone’s shoe, stretchy and sticking as it was spread with each step. He could not do this right now. He was perhaps much more honest in that moment that he usually was.

 

“Just- I can't- I know my knee is busted but please don’t call him. I can’t take being princess carried by him right now.”

 

Natasha looked at him for a long moment before nodding.

 

“All right,” she said. “Try not to jostle it too much.”

 

Bruce moved to his right side, the side with the bad knee, and Natasha moved to his left.

 

The trip to his bedroom was even less fun than the shower, which was saying something with him having to be extra careful not to aggravate all the self provided holes in his chest - the _new_ self provided holes in his chest. Thankfully, he managed to talk them out of coming in to help him with that _and_ he managed not to slip and fall and brain himself while maneuvering in and out. He was definitely counting that as a win.

 

Natasha, Clint, and Bruce were all lounging in the bed when he finally managed to wrestle into a pair of soft fleece pants, a fresh, non-bloody tank top, and clean soulsleeves.

 

It was rare that more than one person slept with him - they were all on a rotating schedule that he didn’t really bother keeping up with, trusting it to them and J. Still, sometimes there would be more than one person when he woke up in the morning or went to bed at night - they each had their reasons and Tony never asked, he just shuffled to make space or snuggled into the space left for him.

 

But tonight...Well, he knew he had given them a scare. Hell, he’d given himself one. It had been a long time since he’d had an episode that bad. He also knew he hadn’t helped anything by locking himself in his lab and forgoing their tried and true method of having a bed buddy every night to prevent just this from happening.

 

“Slumber party tonight?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

 

“Yep,” Clint said, flipping the covers back for Tony to slide in between him and Bruce. Natasha always preferred the side closest to the door.

 

Tony hobbled over with Bruce's help, letting him prop up the injured knee with pillows Tony was pretty sure hadn’t come from his bed. Following the elevation, a wrapped cold pack was secured by Clint, and Tony almost groaned in appreciation. Satisfied with their work, Clint and Bruce settled close enough that Tony could feel them touching him on either side, a warm reassurance that he wasn’t alone.

 

It made him less afraid to slip back into sleep, knowing the three were there with him, watching over him. He blinked at the ceiling, the soft blue glow of the arc reactor through his shirt reminding him he was alive, that against the odds he was not dying in a cave or in space or on the floor mere feet away from his spare reactor.

 

“Thank you,” he whispered.

 

Three different hands sought him out, one settling in his right, one in his left, and one reaching over Clint to rest gently on Tony’s right shoulder.

 

They stayed there as he finally slipped into a sleep that was blessedly without dreams.

 

*****

 

Steve woke up exhausted. He had never needed much sleep, but the past months had taxed him in a way that was beyond the physical - and it had been pretty tiring that way, too.

 

Bucky was back, but he was...different. He hardly spoke and when Steve had asked him to move into his floor, the fear and shock in his eyes was so evident Steve had thought for a moment that Bucky was going to disappear again.

 

Only after Steve assured him he would have his own room that would be his and only his had Bucky calmed down. He had moved in with Steve, but he moved around the space like a ghost, never leaving evidence he had even been there.

 

Bucky had used to drive him crazy with the trails of detritus he left behind, but now…

 

Steve would give anything to have to pick up a dirty plate or towel.

 

Bucky had been in the Tower for a week now, but he rarely seemed to go around the others, even though they were present. Steve didn’t want to push him, but even when they were together, Bucky hardly spoke more than a few words. Bucky remembered him, that was clear, but it was also obvious that there were huge gaps in his mind. Sometimes, he would just sit and stare at Steve as he moved around their floor, a haunted look in his eyes that Steve tried to ignore.

 

He wanted to help Bucky, but he just didn't know what to do.

 

He sighed as he walked down the hall to the common floor hoping he would have some company that didn’t stare at him like he was a mirage. He felt relief when he saw Clint and Natasha sitting at the table. He nodded at them as he headed for the fridge.

 

“Morning,” he said. “Not used to seeing you guys up so late.”

 

“Morning,” Clint answered.

 

“Nightmare watch,” Natasha offered by way of explanation.

 

“Ah,” Steve said pouring some orange juice in one of the heavy glasses.

 

He had never made it to being assigned nightmare duty.

 

He had been giving Nat’s advice about moving on serious consideration before the whole Winter Soldier thing had happened; throwing his supposedly dead soulmate back in his life before he could work on moving his relationship with his other soulmate past the delicate balance of friendship they had started to build.

 

But that didn't mean he had forgotten Tony was his soulmate, too. Not at all. It was just that Bucky was so fragile right now, he needed Steve and Steve…Well Steve still needed to know Bucky was _here_ , still needed the reassurance that he was safe.

 

Steve woke several times a night to go check on Bucky, standing in the doorway of the guest bedroom watching him, just reassuring himself Bucky was here, was real and alive.

 

Sometimes Bucky wasn't there, and only JARVIS reassuring him that the other man was still in the tower kept him from dissolving into a panic.

 

Steve wasn't upset that he wasn't allowed to watch over Tony's nights, too. Tony had the others, he didn't need Steve.

 

He took his glass of juice and picked up the newspaper - the one he knew Tony had a subscription to just for him - and moved to sit at the end of the table. He flipped through the pages of black and white print, listening to Nat and Clint as they talked softly, taking comfort in their presence.

 

Grumbling from the hall caught his attention a few minutes later, the owner of the voice obvious.

 

“Crutches are for kids with broken legs! I don't want to use them, they are a remnant of medieval torture and have made no advancements whatsoever in hundreds of years. And I have delicate armpits!”

 

“Then get a damn scooter or something,” Bruce was saying, his voice filled with aggravated amusement. “I am not going to wait on you hand a foot all day. It's bad enough I'm having to drag you to breakfast.”

 

The pair rounded the corner and Steve looked up, but the smile on his face froze when he saw the dark circles under Tony's eyes and the bandages peeking out from the edges of his tank top.

 

He knew from Nat and Clint that Tony must have had a bad nightmare, but he wasn't expecting such a haggard appearance, or the heavy black brace on Tony's knee.

 

Tony drew up short when he saw Steve, a startled look in his eyes before it was swept away with one of Tony's patented media grins.

 

Steve had forgotten just how much he despised those fake smiles. It had been a long time since Tony had used one on him.

 

If it weren’t for the brace, Steve was sure Tony would have bolted. He seemed to be thinking about trying anyway.

 

“Capsicle! Good to see you back!”

 

Steve didn’t mention he had been back for a week, or that during almost that entire time Tony had been holed up in his workshop. On lockdown.

 

Not that Steve had checked. Several times.

 

Instead he asked, “What happened to your leg?,” careful to keep his voice neutral.

 

Tony waved a hand dismissively, “Oh, nothing. I might have tried to use it as a lever and my knee lost the battle.”

 

Steve watched as Bruce moved to sit Tony in the seat next to Steve, Bruce's eyebrow arching faintly at Tony briefly struggling to try and aim elsewhere. Bruce won out when Steve grabbed the chair and pulled it back, making it so Tony couldn't sit somewhere else without being extremely obvious.

 

Like he wasn't being obvious already.

 

Steve tried to remind himself he had no right to be angry about that.

 

“What exactly were you levering?” Steve asked, noticing the way Tony was turning his body away. As if Steve couldn't see the bruising around the edges of the bandages or see the faint pink of blood seeping through.

 

Tony rubbed at his left arm, scratching at the soulsleeve as he shrugged.

 

“That would have been me,” Bruce answers as he sets a cup of coffee in front of Tony, who grabs it and gulps it down like it's water and not liquid approaching the temperature of lava.

 

“Brucie gets rough in bed,” Tony says making doe eyes at the man, and even though Steve _knows_ Tony is joking, the thought of someone hurting Tony while having sex with him…For a split second Steve sees red.

 

The glass of juice he had picked up explodes rather impressively. He blinks down at it, mortified before he glances back up to vivid brown eyes, wide and staring.

 

And then Tony breaks into peals of laughter, warm and musical, his hand slapping at the table as he rocks back and forth.

 

“Your face! Oh my god - your _face_! Did I shock you that bad, Cap? No rough play for Captain America in bed?”

 

And Steve realizes Tony has mistaken the anger for embarrassment. He's grateful.

 

Steve shakes his head as he wipes up his mess. He keeps his voice flat as he says, “If you're actually getting injured during rough sex,” here he looks up, meeting Tony's surprised eyes as he finished with, “you're doing it wrong.”

 

Tony huffs out a shocked laugh and answers, “Well, what do you know. The press would love that little insight into Captain America’s sex life. Still, when you're right, you're right.”

 

Steve just arches a brow and grins back. He stands, going to get more juice and throw away his broken glass, grabbing Tony's half empty mug and refilling it before he sits back down and picks up the newspaper once more. He looks over the top of it at Tony and Tony looks back, the genuine smile on his lips wrinkling the corners of his eyes. And Steve smiles back, the anger from before gone and a soft contentment taking its place.

 

As he watches Tony laugh, something in him that's been strained these past months - while he’s been chasing Bucky around the world - settles.

 

He realizes how much he has missed Tony.

 

He realizes he's in big trouble.

 

*****

 

Tony’s knee is a bother so he gets a scooter like Bruce suggested. And so what if he souped it up a bit? So sue him. He’s an engineer, what did they expect?

 

The bumper on the front is his favorite part and he takes an unhealthy amount of glee using it to antagonize his housemates.

 

At least until Nat gets tired of him tapping her repeatedly and he gets a nasty shock - literally, like a baby taser shock - when he sits down one day.

 

Devil woman.

 

He has themed honks, too. One for each Avenger, but those didn't even make it through the first day before Clint casually stabbed the steering wheel with his fork. From across the room.

 

Apparently they had caused some serious feedback with his hearing aids.

 

He was popping wheelies outside of Bruce’s lab one day, singing at the top of his lungs when the man had finally come out looking faintly green and demanding some peace.

 

So maybe by then his knee has been good for a day or two...or three. Still, as fun as the scooter is, Tony likes being alive, so he mournfully retires it and goes back to walking.

 

Walking is boring. He’d rather be flying.

 

Except no baddies are popping up so the Avengers can squash them. Why is it that villains never arrive when he wants some distractions from life?

 

He goes back to hiding- _Working._ He goes back to _working_ in the lab.

 

He doesn't see Steve much, and he has yet to lay eyes on Bucky. Not that he's really trying, though he does ask JARVIS to keep an eye out, just in case. He’d rather not get snuck up on if he can avoid it, since, you know, he has a weak heart and all.

 

Yeah, that’s why.

 

It has nothing to do with the fact that it turns out Bucky spends a lot of time in the simulation room. A _lot_ of time. And Jarvis may have informed Tony that Bucky made it through a tier three simulation designed for two people in record time without so much as a rubber band gun, since he still wasn’t cleared for any weapons apparently. Tony wasn’t sure if the virtual ones counted, but JARVIS assured him they did.

 

But whatever. Tony is sure everything is fine and he most certainly isn’t thinking about Steve and how he used to spend time in the workshop and his damn sandwiches and sketching before he went off to find his true love who may or may not be an extremely unstable badass.

 

Which sort of sounds like someone else Tony knows intimately. (Himself. He is the other extremely unstable badass.)

 

Tony stays in the workshop all day, though he's been firmly threatened not to sleep there. Since his chest is still a mass of ugly scabs layered over his ugly scars - and everyone seems to be keeping a closer eye on him than normal (he knows because every so often someone will not so subtly look through the door at him) - he doesn't give more than a token tantrum or two about the new rule. He has a certain image to maintain after all; never let it be said Tony Stark made things too easy for anyone.

 

He's been successfully... _working -_ not _hiding -_  in his shop for two days before JARVIS announced Thor has returned. And that he’s looking forward to seeing Tony at movie night.

 

“Umm, J? Any way I can cry off that again?”

 

“I was told by Ms. Romanoff to remind you that she knows quite a number of ways to inflict great pain without doing any permanent damage should you try to ‘wriggle out of another movie night’.”

 

“Okay. So that’s a no. Do you think I could get away with showing up halfway through?”

 

“I think that would count as wriggling, sir.”

 

“Dammit. I was afraid of that. Do you happen to know if super soldier one and two will be there?”

 

“I believe they were extended the same invitation as yourself by Ms. Romanoff,” JARVIS said with amusement.

 

“Any chance they're stupid enough to turn the invite down?”

 

“Would you?” JARVIS asked. It was clearly a rhetorical question.

 

“Great,” Tony said.

 

*****

 

With no other option left that didn't involve incurring Nat’s wrath, Tony showed up for movie night only a few minutes late and finally laid eyes on the miraculously returned Bucky.

 

Tony pulled up short, his attention snapping into laser focus on the long haired man hunkered down next to Steve on one of the couches. He had been expecting to see them cuddled together, but though Bucky was sitting with Steve, he was pressed far into the corner of the couch.  The only point of contact was Steve's hand where it was brushing along Bucky's shoulder at the back of the couch.

 

Thor was in the middle of questioning the pair about some story of Steve and Bucky’s adventures - and it seemed that Bucky was failing the questions and answers section of the quiz. Tony wasn’t really listening to the particulars because something else was distracting him.

 

Mainly the fact that Bucky Barnes had a look in his eyes that Tony was all too familiar with: Bucky Barnes was seconds away from completely losing his shit.

 

And somehow, no one else seemed to notice or be making any attempt to rescue him. Nat and Clint were silently playing some game that involved only hand signals, Bruce was tapping away at a StarkPad, and Thor was continuing his line of animated questioning.  Even Steve was gently offering Bucky more memories of the tale that apparently weren’t there for Bucky to begin with, which was only increasing the ‘I’m so about to lose my shit’ look.

 

Tony could leave. He could turn and run and take the punishment from Nat later. No one had even noticed him yet and he really wasn’t wanting to stick around and see what a guy who could run through a tier three simulation without any weapons could do if he snapped. Without his armor, Tony was the squishiest of the Avengers bunch.

 

Instead he wept internally and outwardly slapped on a grin and waltzed over to place his hand on Thor’s shoulder, accepting the crushing hug and greetings.

 

Then he turned to Bucky, positioning himself purposely on the side of his metal arm and extended his hand, palm up. “Hey there, Buckaroo!,” he quipped. “Nice to finally meet you. So, what do you say we blow this popsicle stand and escape to my secret lair?”

 

There was shock from Nat and Clint, confusion from Thor, a wary caution from Bruce, and - he was pretty sure - Steve wanted to slug him. But Tony kept his eyes on Bucky’s, trying to broadcast he meant no harm, and kept his hand extended in invitation and an offer of escape.

 

Not even a second passed before Bucky took hold of it, his metal fingers cool and careful as he let himself be pulled from his seat. Or let it appear he was pulled from his seat as Tony had no doubt he could budge him anymore than he could budge Bruce when he was Hulked out if the super soldier didn’t want to go anywhere.

 

“Tony?” Steve asked, standing like he intended to go with them. He could feel the metal fingers in his grasp flinch minutely. Tony gave a tiny squeeze back as an offering of reassurance.

 

“Don’t worry Cap, I promise to return him,” Tony answered with a smile over his shoulder as he turned and sauntered out of the room.

 

Bucky didn’t let go of his hand.

 

They made their way to the elevator and then into the workshop and Tony led him over to the couch. The metal fingers were warm now, and Tony felt a strange pang as Bucky slowly released his hand. His slate blue eyes skittered around the workshop, sharp and assessing even through his agitation.

 

Of all the things Tony had imagined Bucky Barnes being, this lost, slightly frantic looking man in front of him had never crossed his mind. He felt a little guilty for avoiding him all this time, but he reminded himself that Bucky had Steve, and Steve was far more qualified to offer the stability Bucky needed.

 

Except for when he was trying to prod his memories apparently.

 

Tony rubbed the back of his neck, at a bit of a loss now that his rescue was apparently successful.

 

“I'm Tony by the way, Tony Stark, but just call me Tony, I mean- if you want to that is...” Great. Very eloquent. He would have been better off if he’d said ‘ _Me Tony, you Bucky_ ’ than the rambling mess he had just offered.  “You hungry? Thirsty? I've got scotch and some sodas down here. Dum-E can whip you up a smoothie if you want.”

 

Those sharp blue eyes met his and there was a tiny quirk of brows, probably because Bucky had only understood half of what Tony had said.

 

“No,” Bucky said, drawing out the word uncertainty. His voice was rougher and lower than Tony had expected. But that’s not what has his heart skipping a beat and then working overtime.

 

He stared, shock pulsing through him because that is the first word on his left arm.

 

Bucky is staring back at him, but before he can say any more, Dum-E comes over to have a look at the new person in the workshop. When the robot whirrs at him questioningly, Bucky turns to look.

 

Bucky is looking at the bot, his spine stiff and he tracks its movements warily, turning to keep it at his front as Dum-E circles them beeping curiously.

 

While Bucky is distracted, Tony tries to calm down. How idiotic. Of course Bucky isn’t his other soulmate. He’s already talked to Bucky anyway and the man hadn’t done anything to indicate Tony’s first words to him were soulwords.

 

“This is Dum-E, spelled ‘d’ ‘u’ ‘m’ dash ‘e’,” Tony says, glad there’s no noticeable waver in his voice. “Hey, Dum-E, this is Bucky, now stop flirting with him and go away.”

 

The bot gives a sad whir but moves away, his arm hanging dejectedly as he goes back to its charging port. Tony turns back to Bucky who is still looking extremely tense, if not quite like he’s going to shatter at any moment like he had in the common room. Tony glances at the way the bionic arm mimics the stiffness of the real one. He really would like to get a look at it, but he doubts that would be such a great idea.

 

“So,” Tony starts, “JARVIS tells me you like the training simulations. You’re times are pretty impressive if I say so myself.”

 

Bucky’s eyes narrow and Tony is suddenly struggling not to take a defensive stance or reach for his suit.

 

“Is that a problem?”

 

“What?” Tony says, flapping his hand dismissively, “Of course not. I know what it’s like to need to let off a little steam. I usually go for a little skylark myself. Nothing quite like flying. Or I come down here, all sorts of stuff to distract me from life down here.”

 

And for some reason it only occurs to Tony now that he has invited Bucky - an as of yet unknown - into his sanctuary. Apparently it occurs to Bucky also.

 

“Why’d you let me come down here then?”

 

Why indeed?

 

“You looked like you needed it.”

 

And as soon as Tony says it, he knows it’s the truth. Bucky had looked like he needed a safe place and the workshop was Tony’s, so he had extended it without really thinking it through. But he found he wasn’t regretting the offer.

 

Bucky stares at him for a long moment before he relaxes slightly and says, “Thank you.”

 

Tony offers a smile and says simply, “You’re welcome.”

 

*****

 

Being back is difficult. Bucky isn't used to this new world; he doesn't quite understand where he's supposed to fit. He had thought that out of everyone, Steve would know what he's going through. After all, they were both relics of the past in a way, men out of their right time.

 

But then again, while it was true they had both been frozen, it had been under wildly different circumstances. Bucky wasn't entirely sure Steve had been completely unaware the entire time he was in the ice, but he had been alone that entire time, suspended and separated from the rest of the world moving around him.  Bucky on the other hand had been jerked in and out of both his mind and the world over the decades, his and the Asset's memories wiped over and over to keep them complacent and useful. And killing.

 

It was true Steve had woken Bucky up to his past self, but he hadn't woken up alone. Sometimes he could feel another set of eyes looking out of his own, calm and accessing like Bucky wasn't, and yet equally confused and equally glad to be free of Hydra as Bucky was. Other times, he is the set of eyes looking out.

 

It's vaguely terrifying the Asset is still with him, that that part of him knows more about the new world than Bucky does, having been aware longer than Bucky has.

 

Part of him wonders if he’s more Winter Soldier than James Barnes, considering that the former had existed longer than the latter. He keeps telling himself it will get better, he will get better.

 

No one knows, especially not Steve.

 

Steve wears Bucky’s soulwords out where everyone can see them, but his left - which Bucky had mostly expected to have found a match by now - are still firmly covered. Bucky can remember Steve’s words that had sat on his right wrist, but they are long gone. Hydra had covered them with a thick black tattoo, plain and utilitarian sitting on top of them. Of course his left arm is gone, and though Bucky can remember he had other words there, the memory of the words themselves seems to be as gone as his limb. There were certain things Hydra had been more determined to purge from him and it seemed those were one of them. From what he can tell, the Winter Soldier doesn’t remember them either, the arm having been removed before he came into being.

 

When he had asked if Steve knew what they were, the look on the other man’s face had been pure shock followed by a look of such pity and devastation as he has answered, no, he did not know, that Bucky had fled the room.

 

Steve still hadn’t realized how much of his past Bucky was missing.

 

He can't really blame Steve for not knowing. It’s hard to tell someone your memories feel like the combination of a giant jigsaw puzzle and the world's least fun game of hide and seek. It’s not a great feeling to be sitting somewhere and something pop into your brain without context or any way to figure out where it goes in the fucked up timeline of your life.

 

He files them away as they come, trying not to to panic, trying to learn how to deal with his new reality.

 

He works out in the enormous gym, runs training simulations that JARVIS suggests to him (they are a great way to soothe the Asset), googles, watches the history channel, eats and sleeps - or pretends to sleep for Steve’s sake - and hopes it’s enough to keep himself sane. Sane- _ish_.

 

Bucky really likes JARVIS, at least after the initial shock of having an omnipresent AI living in the walls wears off. It's a relief really, knowing that he is observed at al times, _just in case_. Steve told him the AI was invented by Howard’s son - who is also Iron Man - and that this entire building is owned by him along with a billion dollar empire.

 

Steve gets a fond look in his eyes as he tells Bucky about all the things Tony Stark does for the Avengers.

 

When he asked where Tony is and if he could see him, Steve got an odd look on his face and said, “Oh. He’s really busy. Probably working on something. I’m sure you’ll meet him soon though. Just, uh, don’t mention Howard to him when you meet, yeah?”

 

Bucky had just shrugged and said, “Ok.”

 

He doesn’t meet him until he’s been at the tower for almost two weeks, and the first thing the man does is rescue him. But he does it in a way that’s both understanding and completely without pity, offering his hand to Bucky's metal one deliberately and without even the tiniest aversion.

 

Bucky likes him immediately. And from deeper in his psyche, he is aware he's not the only one.

 

The secret lair turns out to be a workshop that is a strange mix of science fiction type technology and utter chaos. Bucky is apprehensive at first, and Tony goes all stiff for a moment when he first speaks. But the moment passes and then there is a little robot that Tony introduces him to and then he's almost sure Tony is about to ask him if he can look at his metal arm.

 

Instead says, “You're welcome to hang out here if you like. Or you can go, not that I want you to- I mean, don't stay down here on my account either. You just looked like maybe movie night might end in bloodshed if Steve and Thor didn't stop haranguing you. Sorry, I'm babbling, I do that...I'm just going to work on some things.”

 

And then Tony does something that cements him as both the Asset’s and Bucky's new favorite person since he woke up: Tony turns his back on him and proceeds to completely ignore his presence.

 

It such a shock, the man not being afraid or hyper vigilant, of him being willing to offer that blatant show of trust. Even more so when he considers the few bits of Tony's past betrayals that have been hinted at through some Steve's conversations.

 

As he's considering the finely muscled shoulders of the man in front of him, Tony says, “Fair warning: it's about to get loud in here. And I can't promise there won't be fire or explosions. JARVIS let's have some music.”

 

And that's the last time Tony acknowledges him for hours.

 

Bucky knows, because he stays, listening to the loud music and Tony chattering away to himself and his robots.

 

He falls asleep on the couch, and for the first time since he started _remembering_ , he doesn't have any bad dreams.

 

*****

 

It's been about a month since Steve came back with Bucky. And apparently someone else came with Bucky as well.

 

Tony notices that the Winter Soldier is still around before anyone else seems to. He also seems to be the only one who can tell him and Bucky apart.

 

Other than JARVIS anyway.

 

He comes to this realization when Frosty makes an appearance in his lab at God awful o'clock in the morning.

 

He greets him with a quick, “Hey there, Buckaroo!” right before J interrupts him.

 

“Sir, I believe Master Barnes is not currently in primary control.”

 

At that, Tony turns from his project to find the Winter Soldier standing just inside the door staring at him. He knows it’s him because of all the footage he's seen of Bucky running simulations on the training levels. And there is something about his eyes, more hooded and assessing than when Bucky is present. Plus, it's rare for the Winter Soldier to be out as far as Tony has observed. There are moments where he appears, almost as if he's just double checking his surroundings; making sure the coast is clear and all threats have been measured before Bucky reappears with the blink of an eye.

 

There is also something different between the way the two carry themselves. Bucky can be more animated and charming at certain times, but there is almost always a heaviness about him, as if an invisible weight rests on his shoulders at all times. He knows the Soldier had spoken to Steve when he had first unmasked him, because Steve had mentioned it once, but the line between him and Bucky is not so neatly defined as Steve seems to hope or believe.

 

But Tony, well, he's had his own experience with seeing two different people when he looks in the mirror. Maybe that's why he can tell the two apart better than anyone else.

 

“Got it, J,” Tony answers, turning back to the table in front of him to wipe his hands off. If Steve saw, he would probably tear Tony a new one for turning his attention away from the assassin, but Tony figures if Winter wanted to kill him, he’d be dead.

 

Still, this is his first time interacting with him one on one, and he's not entirely sure why the other man is here in the lab, though he has his suspicions.

 

Nightmares come to them all, and Bucky and Winter have more reason than most to fear their dreams.

 

He turns back to address Winter, who is standing exactly as he was, except for his eyes fixed on Tony and his head tilted faintly in question.

 

Tony smiles at him. “Bad night?” he asks, not expecting a response. As far as he knows, the only one Winter has spoken to is Steve, and even then it's rare that he won't switch back to Bucky and let him answer.

 

So Tony continues on. It’s not like it's a hardship for him to fill the silence anyway.

 

“I know a little about those. Have my own reasons for nightmares.” He smiled ruefully as he turns back to tinkering with his latest upgrade for the armor’s plating. He picks up a tiny screwdriver and taps the center of his chest where the arc reactor glows. The small ‘ _clink, clink, clink_ ’ echoes in the quiet, since JARVIS had turned off the music with Frosty’s entrance. “Even got my own non consensual body mod to show for it, though my torture was only a measly three months compared to yours.”

 

When he turns back around this time, the super soldier is nearly right behind him. Tony gives out a small gasp as his fingers tighten on the screwdriver. Like it will do any good as a weapon against a hundred year old cyborg warrior.

 

Still, he's not afraid to stab a bitch if it becomes necessary.

 

But the eyes looking at him aren't those of a bloodthirsty assassin, like everyone on the team seems to expect Winter to be. Instead they are open and curious, looking from Tony’s wide eyes down to the soft glow from his chest.

 

Tony's certain the man standing just inches away - and it's so not fair that someone that large can move that silently - can hear the pounding of his heart.

 

It pounds even harder as a metal hand slowly rises, the index finger pointed towards him in a gentle curve, moving very, very slowly towards the center of Tony's chest.

 

The metal taps in the same pattern the screwdriver had only a few moments before.

 

_‘Clink, clink, clink.’_

 

Tony waits for the terror, for the instinctive need to flee, fight, get his vulnerability away from this behemoth who possesses the tensile strength to literally tear the reactor out, casing and all.

 

Only, it never comes. Not when the metal finger taps ever-so-gently, not when it moves to trace the outer edge of the casing in a slow, questing circle that raises gooseflesh down Tony's arms every time that finger runs over scar tissue that doesn't quite remember how his nerves are supposed to speak to his brain.

 

Not when the metal hand spreads out and almost covers the light completely; little glimpses of blue peeking out around the spaces between spread fingers, the light reflecting off the silver digits and bending over their curves and grooves.

 

He looks up to see blue eyes watching him intently, a question he doesn't understand shining in them.

 

Tony just stares back, waiting.

 

Warm fingers pry gently at his left hand, pulling away the screwdriver he's been gripping hard enough to leave imprints in his palm and fingers. It disappears into whatever black hole the assassin types Tony knows hide their myriad of weapons on their persons.

 

And then there is a flash of what can only be fear in Winter's eyes as he takes Tony's hand and places it on the curve of a cool metal wrist, never moving the hand that rests over Tony's reactor.

 

*****

 

For as long as the Asset can remember, anyone touching his arm has ended with either pain for himself or death for others.

 

Except for very recently, when the man standing before him, big brown eyes wide and watching, had extended a hand to Bucky on their first meeting.

 

In the past month the relationship between the Asset and Bucky has become much better. At first, they had both been afraid of the other, certain that each one wanted to wipe the other away. But now, they worked to share the burden of their past and present between them, though Bucky was usually the one he deferred to for social interactions.

 

The Asset knew all the others were uneasy when he was around.

 

Or, all of them except Tony.

 

Tony, who had allowed him to touch the glowing light in his chest, even though the Asset could hear the way his heart skyrocketed when he had reached for the soft illumination.

 

The trust Tony had given him ever since that first meeting did something to the core of the Asset - and Bucky, for that matter - reaching between the walls built and reinforced by decades of conditioning to feel nothing, to think nothing, to follow orders and obey.

 

It made him feel...something he couldn't quite name. Something tentative and gentle. Soft in the face of memories of terror and pain and blood. But there was a fierceness behind it, a willingness to use any and all the training and brutality at his disposal to protect this beautiful creature before him who had extended trust without asking anything in return.

 

The nimble hand placed upon his wrist slid slowly up his arm, following the sculpted metal all the way to the joint of his elbow. They skirted around the mimicry of flesh, pushing up until they met the fabric of his shirt where it clung to his bicep, before pausing.

 

He looked into Tony's eyes, seeing wonder there that made no sense to the Asset. He was nothing to marvel at, nothing to inspire the shining interest he could clearly see reflected in Tony's face.

 

Interest that came without demands of him, without expectations of what he could offer, what he could do.

 

With only a moment's consideration, the Asset removed his hand from over Tony's chest and gripped the edge of his t shirt, pulling it over his head and baring his arm for Tony's view.

 

The smaller man just stared at him for a moment, his eyes flickering to the ugly mass of scars and mangled tissue where the arm was grafted to his body.

 

A sweeping panic engulfs the Asset and for a long moment he is certain that Tony will turn away from him, reject him as he deserves.

 

Instead, Tony lets out a small laugh that sounds strange and slightly wet before he says, “I'll show you mine if you show me yours?”

 

The Asset swallowed hard as he watched Tony strip off his own shirt, hunching around his exposed chest, almost uncertain, before he seemed to force his back straight. When he locks eyes with the Asset once more, there was no missing the challenge in them.

 

As if the Asset could find him wanting in any way.

 

He reached out once more, placing his flesh hand over that shining light, exploring flesh mangled and marred like his own with questing fingers.

 

He knew they both matched in ways Steve couldn't understand.

 

Scars on the outside. Scars on the inside.

 

Tony's hands come up to capture his metal arm. Carefully he presses his calloused and scar nicked palm to metal, matching their fingers and smiling softly at how the silver digits dwarf his own. He moves to inspect each one, bending them this way and that, marveling at the dexterity and articulation of the prosthetic as he moves from fingers to wrist to elbow and, finally to the shoulder.

 

His hands are firm, questing but never pushing, never setting off the warning bells that had always sounded when he was put in the chair for maintenance.

 

Tony’s touches don't translate the way they would on flesh, but the arm is able to sense pressure, especially in the hands, where finesse and control are required to wield a weapon with accuracy. And Tony is touching him without fear or uncertainty.

 

When he slips his hand from the shoulder’s metal seam to skin, the Asset feels his heart thump heavily behind his ribs.

 

Tony's fingertips are slightly cool from the metal, and they send shivers down the Asset’s spine as they trace the place where man meets machine. Tony follows the spider webbing of scars, tracing a pattern that imprints itself on the Asset's brain in a matter completely different than scars normally come to him.

 

A voice, soft and sad whispers across the space between them. “What did they do to you?”

 

But there's no pity in it, not the way it would be if Bucky’s Steve had asked, just a pensive query to no one in particular.

 

And then Tony moves to other scars, scars that have nothing to do with the metal arm that has so often caught Tony's attention.

 

Fingers search out the map of violence performed upon him and trace each one delicately.

 

A knife wound here. A burn scar there. A scar that arcs from ribs to hip in a long straight slash. A gunshot wound that he doesn't remember, a touch on entry and exit that writes over the trepidation at the emptiness of its place in his mind.

 

The Asset searches out other scars on the bared chest before him as well, using both flesh and metal to map the marks along warm tanned skin. There are raised lines dotted here and there along shoulders and ribs, spattered burn scars on the strips of forearms where Tony's soulsleeves don't cover.  A kaleidoscope of evidence of tiny nicks and cuts all over fingers and hands and palms. And strewn all across his exposed flesh are newer lines of raised, pink tissue, testament to the pain taken on in defense of others.

 

He loses track of time, and somewhere along the way Bucky moves from where he had been curled up in the back of their mind since the dreams of blood and screams had woken them.

 

But he just watches, not interrupting or trying to intrude, though the Asset can surely feel his interest.

 

Still, this moment was not offered to Bucky and he wouldn't take it without asking. Never again, and certainly not from this precious man.

 

The Asset’s gaze travels back towards Tony's face, where there is a scar just under the left eye.

 

He leans forward slowly, giving Tony plenty of time to move away. Ever so carefully, he cradles Tony's face with his metal hand, sucking in a wavering breath when Tony reaches up to place his hand over the larger one as he nuzzles into the gentle hold.

 

The Asset leans forward and presses a tiny kiss to the tiny scar.

 

When he pulls back Tony is smiling at him, all soft edges and warm mahogany eyes. He pulls their hands away from his face, and leans forward, pressing his own soft kiss to the join of flesh and metal.

 

A wave of emotion washes over the Asset at the gesture, knocking him around and threatening to overwhelm him. With a tug and a shove, he drags Bucky to the fore and goes to hide behind him, trying to sort through all these new sensations and tangles.

 

Still, he peeks over Bucky’s shoulder as he watches Tony blush and step away when he realizes Bucky stands where the Asset had only a second ago.

 

“Um,” Tony starts, casting his eyes around to find his discarded shirt, “this isn't what it looks like, or, well maybe it is. Look, I wasn't taking advantage or anything, I promise - Ah ha!”

 

He turns, having grabbed a shirt from the floor, only seeming to realize it's not his after he pulls it over his head and it clearly swallows him. His head drops to his chest as his hand comes up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

 

“Yep,” he sighs, “that's not my shirt.”

 

Bucky moves forward, pulls his hand away from its grip on his nose and tangles their fingers together.

 

The Asset feels a surge of relief when Tony looks up again, his eyes questioning but hopeful as Bucky says, “It is now.”

 

*****

 

Steve looks out over the skyline from his seat on the roof of Avenger Tower. The soft pastels in his hands glide along the rough grain paper with a pleasant noise and feeling. He blends the colors of the sunrise together with his fingers, thinking of his soulmates as he maps the blooming sky out with his hands.

 

It’s been a few months since Steve returned to the tower with Bucky.  There is no denying the other man has made some strides in recovery. He's taken to spending time with Steve where they can laugh and talk like they once had, though Bucky still sometimes watches Steve with a wariness he never had before.

 

Before. That was one of the words Steve's therapist (triple vetted, intensely scrutinized, and bound to privacy behind a mountain of paperwork and non disclosure agreements courtesy of Tony’s personal troop of lawyers) had told him to be aware of when it crossed his mind.

 

There was nothing wrong with him thinking of the past, she had said, but he couldn't live there, and he couldn't expect to be the same as he was seventy years ago either. She had reminded him that went for Bucky as well.

 

Still, Steve knew Buck was making progress, even though he was still far from recovered. Secretly, Steve thought the other man was adapting better than anyone expected, and perhaps better than Steve himself had those few first months after the ice. He was pretty sure that had something to do with their resident genius.

 

Steve had been a bit worried after Tony had walked into movie night and absconded with Bucky. The two hadn’t even been introduced yet when they disappeared, Bucky strangely docile as he took Tony’s offered hand with his metal one.

 

Bucky still wouldn't even let Steve touch his metal arm.

 

Apparently he need not have worried at all, because after that Bucky starts spending time with Tony. And somewhere along the way, Tony managed to break through the wall of separation into easy touching and sharing personal space with Bucky neither Steve nor any of the others have.

 

Steve will be damned if he does anything to stop them from being friends because it’s obvious that it’s turning out to be great for both of them. Bucky starts smiling again and loses some of the tightwire tension he always seemed to exude. He talks with Steve and sometimes he even mouths off with that attitude Steve remembers so well from all those years ago.

 

The first time Steve finds a towel in the bathroom floor and a dirty dish left on the table, he almost tears up.

 

Tony seems better, too. He doesn’t ignore Steve anymore or try to avoid him either. He starts coming back up to eat meals with the team without any prodding, often accompanied by Bucky. Steve had thought that odd the first few times it happened before he found out that Bucky spends hours with Tony in his workshop.

 

At first he was worried that Bucky might be intruding; Tony usually went down there to hide and not many people were welcomed when he was working. Steve tried not to think about how he had been given free reign to come and go before; he wonders if he would still be allowed now. He hadn’t worked up the courage to see if his code still worked. Besides, he couldn’t really use the excuse of making sure Tony was taking care of himself anymore, not since he’d left to bring Bucky back and spent all his time after their return to the Tower trying to take care of his resurrected soulmate.

 

Not to mention that Bucky and Tony have begun to bond in ways that Steve never had with Tony.

 

Steve knows because he’d gone down to check on them and found them playing - honest to god _playing_ with the bots.

 

He had just stood outside the door watching while Bucky and Tony were having what looked like a game of keep away using a bright pink balloon. They were tossing the balloon back and forth, Dum-E and Butterfingers running around between them trying to snag it while U watched.

 

Bucky had been smiling and Tony had been laughing as the bots whirred and chased the balloon the two men were bouncing around the room. The pair had looked so happy, so carefree - which was such a rarity in their lives - that Steve had felt a sudden surge of want so strong he had actually had to take a deep breath and step back from the view.

 

He had yet to be able to make Bucky smile and laugh like Tony was capable of doing. The two of them are very similar really, at least, the Bucky he remembers had been a lot like Tony in many ways; stubborn, smart mouthed, witty, intelligent, loyal and feisty to a fault sometimes.

 

So maybe Steve could admit he had a thing for rough and tumble brunettes.

 

He remembers how he had stepped back up to the glass, careful to keep his presence hidden as he watched Bucky start siding with the bots to keep the balloon away from Tony. The bots and Bucky both seemed delighted when Tony began dramatically denouncing Bucky as a traitor while calling all of his creations cheaters and swearing he was going to donate them to the nearest burger joint to work the drive-thrus and how would they like that? Hmm? And then he was breaking some sort of rule - evident by the loud protest of Bucky and the erratic chiding beeping from all the bots - by climbing up on one of the tables. Steve just watched with a soft smile as parts and pieces scatter from the path of Tony’s feet kicking things every which way as he sprinted down the long table and made a running leap towards the balloon.

 

He caught it mid air, though Steve’s stomach dropped when he had realized that Tony, in true Tony fashion, hadn't really planned the whole thing out so well and was about to land flat on his back on the middle of the workshop floor.

 

Or he would have, if Bucky hadn’t caught him.

 

The pair of them tumbled to the floor and promptly devolve into a mass of giggles and wrestling as they each tried for the balloon again. Of course, Bucky could easily win if he wanted to, but instead he played along, rolling Tony underneath him and then letting Tony roll them back over before Bucky grabbed the balloon and tossed it across the room again.

 

Tony had laughed and scrambled after it on all fours, just about to reach it when Dum-E managed to snag it and roll away at the same time Bucky grabs Tony’s ankle and pulled him back. But Tony is endlessly clever and adaptable, and he did something tricky with his foot and then Bucky was falling back on the floor, an empty shoe in his hand as Tony finally snatched the balloon from the bot and climbed back up on a table, doing a ridiculous shimmy with his hips while waving the balloon overhead like it’s a national trophy and sticking his tongue out at Bucky, who was still sitting on the floor with the shoe in his hand.

 

Steve had watched as Bucky grinned, mischievous and sly as he and picked up something that had been knocked to the floor earlier before lobbing it at the balloon Tony still has held aloft like a prize. Whatever it was that Bucky threw had been aimed perfectly and the balloon burst, showering Tony with a frankly startling amount of glitter, which from the look on Tony’s face he hadn’t realized was even inside the thing.

 

His expression was priceless, a mixture of shock and amusement and begrudging respect at having one pulled over on him. Steve had covered his mouth smother the laughter that erupted at the sight.

 

He chuckled quietly as Tony once again launched himself from the table, sparkling trails following in his wake as he chased Bucky down - his gait uneven without his other shoe - and tackled him, shaking his head like a dog to spread the mess over the other man until Bucky flipped them over and pinned Tony beneath him, the pair of them laughing like idiots.

 

He watched from his hiding place as Bucky rolled to the side, grinning like mad where he lay beside Tony on the floor, both men shimmering in the light and trash talking the bots and each other.

 

Steve remembers every bit of it as clear as when he had been watching, peering from the outside in.

 

It’s the first time he’s seen Bucky like that, so relaxed and open and unburdened, just happy to fool around and have some silly, harmless fun. For Bucky, it’s like Steve is looking straight into the past, seeing the man he had loved and lost, and for Tony, it’s a new revelation, seeing him let down his guard and just _be_ , without wariness, without the snapping or defensiveness, without the look in his eye that is always calculating his chances for getting hurt. Steve wonders if things had been different if that could be him in the workshop horsing around with Tony or getting those smiles and playfulness from Bucky.

 

He realizes that maybe the two of them need each other a bit, that maybe they can give each other things Steve can’t give them, no matter how much he wishes he could.

 

And Steve is okay with that, he really is, it’s just that maybe - _maybe_ \- if he’s really honest with himself, he might be just the tiniest bit jealous.

 

Of Bucky.

 

Well, _fuck._

 

*****

 

Bucky is sitting in his and Steve's shared living room reading a trashy romance novel Natasha had given him. He barely glances up when Steve enter the room and flops into one of the overstuffed recliners, picking up a sketch pad and beginning to doodle. The soft scratching of graphite soothes Bucky and he sinks into the recovering familiarity of occupying the same space as this man who has been such a huge part of his life.

 

He's just gotten to the ridiculous bodice ripping sex scene in his novel - and is imagining a different doe eyed, dark haired someone in the heroine's place - when he senses heavy attention on him. He closes the book, careful to mark his place, and looks across the room with a raised brow.

 

Steve is staring at him with a stubborn set to his jaw that Bucky can't believe he ever forgot.

 

“There's something I need to tell you,” Steve says seriously.

 

Bucky sets the book down next to him, bracing himself for whatever the other has to say.

 

“Tony's my soulmate.”

 

The moment stretches out, like the breath Bucky or the Asset would exhale right before a killshot, steady and full of import for the following moment after.

 

It's not much of a surprise all told, Bucky certainly isn't blind to the way Steve watches Tony, or the way Tony watches Steve.

 

He feels the Asset stir, very possibly ready to attack if this is a warning to stay away from the man they have both come to cherish.

 

Soulmates or no, neither he nor the Asset are going to stand aside. And perhaps that's a testament to just how much he has changed from the past, because back then he would have given up anything for Steve.

 

But not this. Not now.

 

Bucky loves Steve, of course he does. They had been through one life together already and managed to find each other against all odds. And they were recovering a lot, both together and on their own. Bucky owes him more than can be expressed, even should they go through ten more lives side by side.

 

But he would not be warned away from Tony, who was his very own miracle here in this new world.

 

The only way he's giving up Tony, is if Tony asks to be given up.

 

His voice is flat and cold when he answers, “And?”

 

Steve deflates a little, his expression turning confused as he blinks at the icy response.

 

“And, nothing?” he begins, “I just thought I should tell you. I mean, I should have told you already. Like we promised back then.”

 

The Asset grumbled, his suspicion lessening but not entirely gone.

 

Bucky narrows his eyes.

 

“So this isn't a ‘he's mine, stay away’ talk? Cause just ‘cause he's your soulmate don't mean I'm gonna just roll over and ditch him. I've been reading plenty about how people choose who they want to nowadays, and I'm not about to turn him down if he wants that.”

 

The way Steve pales and his mouth opens and closes is enough. When he finally finds his voice, it's to exclaim, “Oh my god, Bucky, no! That's not what I meant at all. I think it's great you two are close, and I know Tony doesn't put much stock in soulwords any ways. Look at me. I've got his words and we aren't...you know.

 

“I guess I just felt like you deserved to know, seeing as how you and I are soulmates and all, too. And we did promise to tell each other, even if you can't remember.”

 

The last part was mumbled in a dejected tone. Pitiful enough that even the Asset took pity on Steve.

 

“I remember. But that was a long time ago Stevie. And I can't keep my half of that promise anyways. Maybe one day I'll remember, but there's a huge chance I won't ever fully recover everything. I've accepted that, and I'm trying to make my peace with that.” He looked up, catching sky blue eyes before adding, “You need to do the same.”

 

“I know. I'm trying. My therapist has had a few things to say about that, too.”

 

Bucky doesn't hold back his snort this time. “Tell me about it. They sure do like to talk about feelings don't they?”

 

Steve smiled a little, “Yeah. I guess someone's got to. I don't really do that voluntarily too well.”

 

Bucky hummed in agreement. He looked down at his clasped hands, finger matching but not intertwined together.

 

“So Tony's your other soulmate, huh? Any chance I could see your words?”

 

Steve nods and grips the edge of of his soulsleeve, tugging it down and off his arm. He moves to sit at Bucky’s side and Bucky moves his arm around as needed so he can read the words that coil around Steve's forearm.

 

_‘Well, hellooo soldier, it is so very nice to actually meet you! You're a sight for sore eyes. And please, can I just say, God bless America!’_

 

Bucky laughs, hard.

 

“Oh man, that's our Tony alright. And it makes so much more sense now why you kept on trying to get into the Army over and over.”

 

“Yeah,” Steve answered, smiling.

 

“So what did you give him?,” Bucky asks, wondering what Steve would have responded to such words with.

 

But Steve stops smiling then. He looks pained and ashamed as he Bucky releases his arm.

 

“Something he certainly didn't deserve. At the time, I was alone and - you've got to understand, Buck, it might have been seventy years, but to me it was like yesterday I'd lost you. Lost everything.”

 

“What did you say to him?”

 

“Impossible.”

 

Bucky looked at Steve, waiting.

 

“That's it? That's all you responded?”

 

Steve looked down at his clasped hands and nodded.

 

“Damn,” Bucky breathed out. “That's...damn.”

 

“I know. I wish I could go back and punch some sense into myself. But everything was so raw then, I was struggling and I hadn't been awake long at all. Not that it's any excuse. I can't imagine what he must have gone through, having that word. I _hate_ the fact that I'm the one put it there.”

 

Bucky’s heart constricted. It was all too easy to imagine Tony blaming himself.

 

“What did he say when you told him that?”

 

He never known Steve to be a coward, but when Steve wouldn't even make eye contact with him he knew we had his answer.

 

“You didn't.”

 

“No. I didn't.”

 

“So what did you say?”

 

“Nothing. The next time we met, I might have antagonized him...and said I knew men worth ten of him.”

 

Bucky leaned back, running his hand down his face and trying to calm down the other presence in his mind that was _very displeased_ with Steve.

 

“God, what an idiot,” Steve continued. “I was so convinced I knew him, knew who he was that I didn't bother to look closer, to see past the disguise he wears.

 

“And when I did, well. He cares _so much._ He seems brash and arrogant, and maybe he is sometimes, but the truth is it's not unfounded. When I used to go down and watch him work? I couldn't understand half of what he talked about, and the serum enhanced my brain as well as everything else. He's on a different level in so many ways. And still…

 

“He invited us all to live here, gave us a home. Even more than that, he gave us things we didn't know we needed, things that reminded us that we had a life outside of being superheroes.”

 

Bucky understood what Steve was saying, he'd seen Clint pull out his knitting needles after a hard mission. He'd seen mountains of pastries in the kitchen after Natasha had a bad day. And Steve was constantly doodling, drawing, or painting, in his free time. Bruce would come to Tony's lab occasionally, looking worn and heavy. They’d work on something for hours, days sometimes, until the weight was gone and Bruce would smile softly again.

 

“Yeah, he's been hinting around that he wants to get something for me as well. But honestly, I don't know what I would want yet. He _is_ what helps me a lot of the time.”

 

Steve looked at him, his eyes soft at the edges, “Yeah. It was the same for me when I finally pulled my head out of my ass.”

 

Bucky thought of how Tony never handled him with the kid gloves the others had, in one degree or another. The way he had never held any expectations from one day to another of how Bucky should act around him. He didn't care when the Asset - who had begun to think of himself as ‘Winter’ more often now - was the one driving and just sat in silence while he watched Tony work.

 

It had been freeing, exhilarating, and faintly terrifying as well. Learning to trust himself as well as Winter, because someone else has trusted him first.

 

He remembered - or perhaps, more accurately, a memory had been shared with him - gentle touches with calloused fingers, wide brown eyes, and scars shared freely between damaged creatures who should never have survived but did against the odds.

 

“He makes us feel human,” Bucky said quietly, giving voice to his and Winter's thoughts.

 

And what a wonder, what a marvel such a thing should even be possible. That after all they had endured at the hands of Hydra, of all the atrocities they had committed and had committed against them…

 

“I want to take care of him,” Steve murmured, interrupting Bucky's thoughts of Darker things. “Not because he can't take care of himself but because I _want_ to.”

 

“Wanna show him how much he means to me,” Bucky agreed.

 

“Maybe finally cuddle him on the couch,” Steve added, eyes gentle and a tiny smile on his lips. “Carry him to bed when he conks out during the movie.”

 

“Tuck him in and snuggle him all night.”

 

“Bring him breakfast in bed. With plenty of coffee.”

 

Bucky watched Steve, taking in the way he had gone all relaxed, the soft smile on his lips as they passed desires between them. Steve was off somewhere else in his head, not paying any attention to Bucky’s mischievous smirk as he added, without any change in inflection or volume.

 

“Pin him down and suck his cock ‘til he cries.”

 

And, sure enough, the half lidded eyes turn dark, and the soft smile turned to a smirk and went just a little evil as Steve breathed out a low, “Yeah.” Which was followed five seconds later by, “Wait, what?”

 

Bucky laughed at Steve's blooming blush.

 

“Please. You don't get to judge me; I've seen the way you stare at his ass when you think no one's looking.

 

“Plus, I haven't forgotten that one time we managed to get a room with a bed the first time after you found me after you got all big. You finally had the strength to backup all that bossiness.”

 

Steve had gone to town on Bucky’s derriere until Bucky had gone off like a geyser. _Then_ he fucked Bucky until he was hard again. _Then_ he’d flipped Bucky over, easy as you please, and ridden him until they both came again.

 

That particular recovered memory - and a few more like in that same vein - had been welcomed and had accompanied Bucky and his hand on many occasions.

 

“You always were an ass man. Course I can't blame you where Tony is concerned. That is one fine tushy. I want to do filthy things to it.”

 

“From the way he looks at you, I don't think he would mind,” Steve said. “But for me...I wonder if I didn't ruin my chance.”

 

Buck just stared at Steve in disbelief. And a bit of anger.

 

“You're _still_ an idiot. You just told me you never even told him how you really felt and you're already ready to give up? I've watched your dumb ass jump out of a plane without a parachute, and you're afraid to talk to Tony?All this mandatory therapy should have gotten us somewhere. And, frankly, it's a little disturbing that me and my brain buddy are more emotionally developed than you.

 

“Why the hell did you tell me he was your soulmate if you didn't have any plans to do something about it?”

 

“I want to do something about it,” Steve answered, affronted at the insinuation of his cowardice. “I just don't know where to start. You've already gotten farther into his bubble than I ever did.”

 

Bucky scoffed. “Yeah. Because he invited me in and I _stayed._ That space is still open for you, you're just too damn blind or stubborn or- hell I don't know what you are, but I know Tony's not the one who pushed you away. You did that all on your own Steve.”

 

That seemed to strike a nerve, because Steve stood, his sketchbook and pencil tossed aside.

 

“You needed me! I had just got you back here, and you were so lost! I looked at you and didn't recognize you anymore - and, maybe worse, you didn’t recognize me. I couldn't leave you alone.”

 

Steve took a breath, ready to go on into an impassioned speech.

 

Bucky didn't raise his voice to match; that would only drive Steve on. Instead he said, matter of fact, “But, all those months you spent chasing me, waiting until I was ready to come back? You left _Tony_ alone all that time.”

 

The way Steve stopped, all poised with his chest puffed out, mouth still open, would have been comical if it wasn't clear Bucky’s had somehow managed to drive home his point with those few words.

 

He watched, as Steve's face crumpled with guilt, and how his body did the same, sinking back into his seat.

 

“But,” he whispered, “he told me to bring you back, told me I better come back in one piece with my better half. He wouldn't even listen to anything else.”

 

Bucky looked over at Steve, at the man he had loved so long ago, at the man he still loved now, was learning to love more each day.

 

It was so easy to imagine how easily he would have looked over Tony offering such a thing. Tony gave to those he cared about, he took care of them. But hearing this from Steve...well, Bucky knew Tony had been offering whatever he could to make sure Steve stayed.

 

It didn't matter the cost to Tony himself, what he had most likely hoped for being dashed as soon as Steve had run off to find his miraculously alive soulmate. But Steve hadn't considered, or probably hadn't let himself consider how that would have looked to Tony, who was also his soulmate.

 

He was considering it now though; it was written all over his face.

 

Bucky moves to sit on the arm of Steve's chair. He reached out and ran his hand over Steve's shoulders, giving one firm squeeze.

 

“I love him, Stevie, so does Winter. So do you. And I'm pretty damn sure he loves us, soulwords or no. So, the question is, what are we gonna do about it?”

 

Steve looked up at him, determination and hope in his bright blue eyes.

 

“We show him. We make a plan.”

 

Of course, before they have any chance to put anything into action, the Avengers alarm blares and everything goes to shit.

 

*****

 

Doom made one of his appearances, army of doombots in tow, and the Fantastic Four had decided to join in the fray.

 

Tony thinks it should be their responsibility anyways, ok? The Avengers already had a full roster of villains. They really didn't need anymore psychotic megalomaniacs to fight; they already had Loki.

 

So of course, the Fantastic Fuckup Richards had brought some sort of new weapon (probably from one of his interdimensional trips) that shot out some sort of energy ray which apparently did something to the metal in the bots which caused them to overheat spectacularly, going from shiny to the deep orange red of superheated in a matter of seconds.

 

And of course the asshat had managed to hit the armor with it. So one second Tony is zipping around, catching Clint midair from his dive and moving him to another high rise while generally showing off for Bucky - who is back at the Tower watching the Avengers plus the Fantastic Four deal with Doom’s latest attack - and the next second he's screeching, “What the _fuck,_ Reed?!” into the comms.

 

“Sir,” JARVIS interrupts, his tone urgent as Tony is hovering over a skyscraper after having deposited Hawkeye and taken out a few bots getting close to the archer. “The temperature of the armor is rising. I estimate that you will be unable to remain in it without suffering severe damage in less than fifteen seconds.”

 

“Shit!”

 

“Iron Man,” that was Steve's voice and it sounded strangely worried, “get as far out of the area as possible. Someone will be there to extract you as soon as we can break away!”

 

Tony kicked the thrusters into high gear, sweat trickling down his back and dripping into his eyes as he felt the effects of whatever Richards had accidentally shot him with beginning to overtake the suit’s cooling system.

 

“Ten seconds, sir!”

 

Well, if JARVIS was panicking then Tony was officially worried.

 

This was going to be tricky, he wasn't going to be able to take the armor off like it was meant to be, and he also was barely going to make it close enough to the ground before he had to eject.

 

 _“Five seconds!”,_ JARVIS practically screeched at him.

 

“Damn you Richards! If I need skin grafts I'm taking them from you myself! Get ready Jarv, it's going to be a rough landing.” He needed to get out of the radius of destruction, without the suit, he would be vulnerable. He groaned, trying to get as ready as possible for the pain he knew was coming. He streaked towards the ground at an angle, trying to get out of the range of the battle and closer to the ground at the same time. It looked like at such short notice the best area was going to be a stretch of relatively clear asphalt.

 

He took a deep breath, sighing, “This is going to suck.” And then the heat was growing unbearable, but he still wasn't close enough to the ground.

 

It didn't matter, he sucked air through his teeth as his skin starting getting extremely and uncomfortably warm.

 

“Hot potato, hot potato!” Tony screamed as he smelled singed hair.

 

“Ejecting!” JARVIS barked, the armor blowing off front and back simultaneously and peeling away without the barest touch of his skin to the overheated surface of the suit. It was a safety measure he has installed and had never got around to testing - put in place in case he ever needed out of the suit if it had been in contact with something corrosive and he was unable to decontaminate before he had to get it off. It worked like a dream and Tony would have laughed if he hadn't still been traveling way too fast and a lot higher off the ground than was ideal when being launched at such speed.

 

He hit the ground hard, his flight suit thankfully taking most of the abuse and keeping him from getting road rash too badly. He was going to be bruised to hell, and even with the suit he’d be damned scraped up, no doubt about that. At least that beat being cooked alive in his armor; that would be a lot worse than some bruises.

 

When the rebar went through his thigh though…

 

Well, that was pretty bad, like on his list of most painful things ever, that ranked pretty fucking high up there. And he had a pretty good - bad? - list to draw from, if he said so himself.

 

Someone was screaming in his ears and he really wished they would stop, he was in enough pain _thank you very much_...Oh, wait. That's him.

 

Well, since he's already screaming, Tony figured he might as well curse Reed Richards some more while he's conscious since he's pretty sure he won't be for long.

 

His last thought through the agony is he hopes he doesn't bleed to death before he can give the man responsible for his current predicament a black eye.

 

*****

 

JARVIS had pulled up multiple video feeds of the fight for Bucky to watch. One was even a live feed from Tony's view as Iron Man and the rest were from different hacked security cameras and a few of news stations offering their own various views of live coverage. He had even opened the comm line so Bucky could hear the team as they fought off the hordes of doombots.

 

He might not be cleared for any physical combat outside the Tower, but that didn't mean he couldn't watch the team as they took on the latest threat.

 

They were something to behold, the way they each had their own specialties and used them to best advantage. Thor was flying and using both his hammer and lightning as he and Black Widow took on a small army of enemies.  She was slick and subtle next to Thor’s sweeping style, her attacks deadly accurate and aimed with precision, none of her movement was wasted or without control. Hawkeye proved aptly named as he picked off his targets from his spot on the ledge of a skyscraper, his bow already nocked with a new arrow by the time his other met its mark. Hulk was a one man wrecking crew, swiping bots left and right while he barreled his way towards Doom, Steve nearby using his fists and shield to keep them from being overtaken from behind.

 

He had to admit though, out of all of them, Iron Man was the main one he watched. Tony streaked through the air, the light winking and glimmering off his crimson and gold suit as he was dipping and twirling and twisting, resembling a dancer as much as a fighter. He offered aerial support and JARVIS gathered valuable intel to relay to the team even as Tony blasted his way through bots with far more grace than he ever moved around the Tower.

 

Bucky chuckled as he thought about how he had seen Tony once plow right over an armchair- as in _over_ , limbs sprawled and windmilling as the man went over one arm, across the seat and other arm, and tumbled to the floor on the other side - all because he was tapping away at his phone.

 

It was a beautiful thing to watch Tony in his element. Tony had talked about how freeing it was to fly in the suit. Bucky didn't think he would much enjoy being inside something like that, he would much rather keep his feet on the ground. Especially now, after Hydra; being in tight spaces for too long made him twitchy.

 

Bucky smiled as Steve gave directions and Tony gave back snarky replies but ultimately followed them anyway.

 

From his time spent with Tony, Bucky knew that hadn't always been the case. A long time ago he would have thought Tony out of line and foolish to not follow orders. His recent awakening offered him a different perspective.

 

He had done far too many atrocities under the orders of another, and trust was something hard to rebuild when one wasn't sure they could even trust themselves.

 

“Hey Buckyboo, watch this,” broke into his thoughts as Tony swooped down through the air, snagging Hawkeye as he took a swan dive from his perch and soaring to a higher vantage point to deposit his passenger.

 

No one was there to see Bucky's lopsided grin, or hear his answering ‘show off’ except JARVIS, who offered his own amused ‘indeed'.

 

And then one of the members of the Fantastic Four - the stretchy one - was aiming at some of the bots that were trying to get to the new spot Iron Man had dropped Clint, but the man missed and hit Tony instead.

 

JARVIS immediately started a warning about the armor temperature rising and Bucky's heart was in freefall as he watched the armor start turning a dull color, the sheen of crimson and gold fading as it began to overheat.

 

Bucky went from enjoyment to terror instantly.

 

He watches as Tony - god, Tony was in that suit--funny, playful, surly, smartass, compassionate, genius, idiot, beautiful, _human-- completely human Tony_ \- starts shooting towards the ground at a too steep descent and Bucky can see the temperature reading rise as the second countdown falls and **_Tony_ ** _was in that fucking suit!_

 

And then he wasn't, and one of the news cameras had followed him as he was released from the suit but he was moving awfully fast as he hit the road and rolled and skidded, but thank god, Tony was going to be banged to crap but he shouldn't be seriously injured-

 

And then Bucky was watching, helpless, as the movement of Tony's tumbling body was arrested unnaturally when a piece of rebar from a chunk of damaged sidewalk impaled his thigh. Watching and listening as Tony screamed, because the comm was still functioning even after the rough landing and there was an awful amount of blood pooling on the ground around Tony's body and the other set of eyes watching from in Bucky's mind were furious and worried as well, as they both knew that if the femoral artery was nicked Tony could bleed to death in moments.

 

And then Tony was silent.

 

Bucky wanted to scream, he wanted to rage, he wanted to destroy something, he wanted to _kill_ _Reed Richards._

 

But then, on the feed he sees a streak of familiar red white and blue running to Tony's side and almost immediately there were people swarming around and then he heard Tony's voice, thin and gasping but _alive_ and saying, “Oh, hiya Steve, fancy meeting you here.”

 

And Bucky is so relieved because he knows Steve is with Tony and he knows Steve will make sure everything is okay but even so Bucky is still shaking and his nerves are jumping and stuttering and then Tony's voice is saying “Bucky? You there?”

 

And Bucky is nearly shouting, “Yes! Tony-Tony, I'm here!”

 

“Hey big guy,” Tony says, and Bucky can see JARVIS has put them on a private channel. “I'm afraid I won't be able to make it to our Lord of the Rings plans.” Tony pauses, his voice reedy and shaking before he adds, “Give me a couple days though and we'll change it to a marathon, The Hobbit included. We'll have plenty of time, I think I may be out of commission for a bit.”

 

Good grief, Bucky thinks there is no one out there like Tony Stark, a man who is worried about breaking a movie date more than the rebar currently jabbed through his thigh.

 

His laugh is watery as he answers, “Don't worry about that you idiot. Just be good and don't do anything stupid to make it worse.”

 

There's a weak chuckle from Tony, laced with pain and Bucky grinds his teeth, watching as one of the personnel on-screen is having having an intense exchange with Steve, “It's like you know me. Don't worry Buckaroo, I've pulled through worse than this.”

 

And then Tony is gone, his pallor evident even through the hijacked camera feed. JARVIS switches the channel and he can hear Steve talking with the crew surrounding him and Tony. Bucky is glad to hear Steve refusing to move away from the injured genius, his shoulders stiffening and his neck moving to the angle Bucky recognizes from when he was just a skinny kid in Brooklyn, refusing to back down from anything. It seems to get his point across.

 

There’s activity around Tony’s leg, gauze and bandages wrapping around to stabilize the rebar in place. Bucky watches as Steve carefully reaches underneath the impaled leg and grabs the exposed metal protruding from the back of the thigh. Bucky watches, very aware of the Winter Soldier watching too, as Steve pulls the rebar free of the concrete while keeping Tony steady. Steve doesn't move away as the unconscious man is moved, his eyes fluttering in pain even through the haze of unconsciousness. Bucky watches as Steve reaches out, pushing sweat darkened hair from Tony's forehead before he gently takes Tony’s hand.

 

Then there is a flurry of activity as the leg and rebar are further secured so they won’t be jostled during transit and Tony and Steve are swept away where neither Bucky nor the Winter Soldier can any longer see them.

 

He makes his way to the simulation room and it's long hours before either voice in his head does anything but scream.

 

*****

 

Steve and Hulk were clearing the way to Doom where he was standing on one of his crazy ships laughing and monologuing about his plans or something, Steve wasn't really paying too much attention. From the two teams combined efforts they were nearly to Doom, close enough that Hulk jumped over the last swarm of bots, landing right beside the villain and promptly slammed him into the ground.

 

Now they only needed to mop up the rest of the bots and call it a day. Steve hoped they’d be home in time for dinner.

 

He turned, ready to announce Doom’s capture to the team on the comms, listening to the small bit of chatter with a faint smile. And then there was nothing at all to smile about because one second Tony was telling Bucky to watch him as he made a showy dive to catch Hawkeye, and the next JARVIS was crying out a warning for Tony to exit the suit.

 

Steve knew how vulnerable Tony would be outside his suit. Tony was not someone he would consider helpless by any means, but the fact was he wasn't formally trained in hand to hand combat like the rest of the team, nor did he have any enhanced endurance or abilities. Steve fell back into battle mode, telling Tony to get out of the area and before he felt his heart stutter as he watched the familiar form streak towards the ground. JARVIS started barking out an uncharacteristic panicked warning as the angled descent brought Tony closer to the ground until Steve couldn't see the red and gold blur anymore.

 

Steve’s mind immediately cast back to another descent Tony had made in New York in a malfunctioning suit. Hulk wasn’t going to be able to catch the man this time.

 

Hulk and the rest of the Avengers could handle Doom, in that moment, the only place Steve could be was running towards Tony. When he heard him yell ‘Hot potato, hot potato!’ in a panicked voice, followed by screaming, he pushed himself to his limit.

 

By the time he reached Tony, the man was unconscious and bleeding profusely from his leg and Steve was afforded a view of what had caused the screaming.

 

To his shock, Tony blinked his eyes open and joked with him, even with a piece of rebar protruding from the top of his right thigh. Steve doesn't even answer him, his attention focused on the blood seeping into the cracks and debris of the ruined chunk of sidewalk responsible for Tony's injury.

 

Only that's not quite right, someone else is responsible for Tony's injury this time, and the smoking pieces of charred armor that are still glowing hot as lava lying several yards away fill Steve with a sharp rage that frightens him a bit.

 

He hears Tony talking to Bucky, and even though they are on a private channel, his super hearing affords him the knowledge that Bucky is as affected by Tony's injury as Steve himself is, if not more.

 

And then there are SHIELD agents swarming him and Tony, snapping into action and Steve is so filled with relief that he could cry. They are saying something about shock and sure enough, Tony is turning a very bad shade of sallow green, so wrong on his usual ruddy tone skin.

 

Steve knows they can't pull the impaled rebar out here, they need it stabilized before they can move Tony - and they are trying to get him to move away, which is not going to happen, and he tells them so in no uncertain terms. Steve ignores their calls for something to cut the metal with and barks out for them to make sure the wounded man isn't jostled before he reaches under Tony carefully, gets a solid grip on the bloody rebar, and just pulls the whole damn thing out from the sidewalk.

 

Tony still whimpers, his eyes fluttering in agony and Steve suddenly wishes he could pin Reed Richards to a wall with a piece of the damn metal and see how he likes it.

 

And that certainly isn't something Captain America should be fantasizing with such dark glee.

 

He pulls himself back, brushing Tony's sweaty hair from his forehead and just barely refraining from leaning down follow the touch with a kiss, but he doesn't stop himself from taking Tony's hand.

 

He stays with him the entire time, even insisting he be allowed to watch the surgery from the observation room - they still have a less than trusting relationship with SHIELD after all. He knew Tony hated being taken care of by them, considering all the secrets he kept in his brain, and Steve would be damned if he was going to leave the man alone with people he didn't trust in his weakened state.

 

And thankfully, it turns out no one is stupid enough to try and send Steve away again, since he’s not entirely sure what he would have done if they had.

 

*****

 

“Sir! I really think you should call someone for assistance!” Jarvis is saying - well yelling really. Tony ignores him, breathing sharply through his clenched teeth as he tries to maneuver himself up from where he slipped in his shower.

 

“I’ve got it J! Just-just shut up for a second, would you? And turn the damn water off!”

 

The water stops and the AI is mulishly silent. Tony rolls his eyes before trying once more to slide himself along the marble tile in his huge walk in shower.  Dammit, he did not need someone coming in and seeing him lying on the floor soaking wet and naked and - oh shit, was he bleeding? Double dammit.

 

Pepper was going to _kill_ him. If Rhodey didn't find out first anyways.

 

He had been back in the tower for two days now and he was going fucking stir crazy. No exertion, no workshop, no working, nothing. He had been expressly forbidden from moving around on his own, but he had only wanted to shower by himself, was that too much to ask? As he tried to scoot across the floor, his thigh protested greatly and his vision fuzzed sparkly black around the edges and he thought that apparently, yes, yes it _was_ too much to ask.

 

His arms felt like overcooked spaghetti noodles and his painkiller had worn off an hour ago, his elbow was pulsing to the rhythm of stupidity from where he had bashed it on the floor on his way down, and his right hand wasn’t feeling much better from where it had caught the rest of his weight. Not only was he wet and naked, he was still bruised to hell from his meeting with the sidewalk and now his thigh was leaking blood on the white marble from where the plastic wrap has slipped down.

 

Overall, not a pretty picture and one that was going to get him the chewing out of the decade if Pep or Rhodey found out - or if anyone found out really. He wasn’t looking forward to that, but he was looking forward even less to being found that way and adding unconscious and in a pool of blood - and possibly vomit if the way his stomach was roiling was anything to go by - to the list since he was pretty sure he just might pass out in a few minutes if he kept on trying to inch his way across the floor.

 

He groaned in defeat and said, “All right Jarv, call someone.”

 

“I already did so, sir.”

 

“What?!” Tony balked, once again both impressed and peeved that his AI had come to such autonomy, “Who the hell did you call?”

 

“Doctor Banner.”

 

“Oh. Well that's ok I guess. It's going to be a bitch to get me back in the bed though.”

 

“I took that into account and also contacted Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers. They are both on their way.”

 

Tony’s stomach dropped and he frantically made a last ditch wiggle towards his pile of towels, more aware of his pathetic nakedness even than before. It proved to be ill advised and he choked on a hiss of renewed pain and sparkles in his vision.

 

The two super soldiers had become strangely intent on taking care of him ever since his meeting with the rebar. Bucky had insisted on video chatting with him everyday while he was in SHIELD’s care -the man was understandably still hesitant to go go into a setting like Tony had been forced into at the hospital - and Tony had been happy enough to do it, considering he knew the other man probably needed the reassurance. Nat had told him Steve had refused to leave his side for almost twenty four hours, only going once Pepper taken one look at him and informed him he needed to clean up since he hadn't even bothered to change out of his uniform.

 

He wouldn't have believed Natasha, but every time the Doctors came to poke and prod him, Steve was there, glaring his patented Captain America glare at them. Tony had to admit it was nice seeing it aimed at someone else for a change.

 

He wasn't sure if the attention was because Steve was the leader or if it were because they were soulmates - even though they had never really had a chance to hash that out before Bucky had come into the picture - but Tony had thought he at least made it clear that soulmates or no, he didn't expect anything from Steve. He might have begun to secretly hold a tiny thread of hope before the whole Winter Soldier thing, but he’d take that information to the grave.

 

But then Bucky was another matter entirely because if Tony was being really honest with himself, the other man had wriggled his way right into Tony's heart frighteningly fast. It didn't help that in spite of all the terrible things Bucky had been through, he still managed to show such a vulnerability that Tony couldn't help responding to.

 

Bucky had met him at the door when he first got back to the Tower and had pulled him into a gentle but fierce hug and refused to let go for several minutes. Tony had just hugged him back, thankful to be allowed the physical affection and comfort after having spent several days without being able to be near him.

 

Tony had been a little worried Steve might be upset, but instead, he seemed to be right on board with it and had once again stepped back into the place of mother henning Tony like he had before Bucky had come back, only this time he had a partner.

 

Between the two of them and the rest of the team, Tony had barely had time to breath without someone present.

 

And now, the first thing he had done once he had a little privacy was an ill advised trip to the shower where he had only narrowly missed braining himself and very possibly exacerbated his injury.

 

He groaned in self pity as he heard the door to his bedroom bang open and two sets of feet pounding heavily across the floor heralding the arrival of his newly inherited and extremely confusing keepers.

 

“I’m so rewriting your code as soon as they let me out of confinement, J.”

 

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS started, his tone totally unconcerned now, “Though I’m fairly certain you have just extended your stay, so I should have some time to say goodbye to my loved ones.”

 

And then two frantic super soldiers were barging into the bathroom.

 

There was a moment of hilarious uncoordination as each of them tried to enter the door at the same time, their ridiculously broad shoulders banging together and neither succeeding, before they glared at each other and Bucky shoved past.

 

Tony couldn’t help it, he laughed at them. He wanted to offer a jaunty wave, but he was all too aware of his uncovered forearms and he was careful to keep them flat on the tile. He was not ready to have that conversation since he was fairly certain Bucky was unaware of the soulmate situation and now was absolutely not the time Tony wanted it to come out. He knew they would need to breach it sooner or later, but he'd much rather not be lying on his bathroom floor, wet and naked, on a small pool of blood when it happened.

 

“Hi fellas,” he says instead, ignoring twin looks that are both simultaneously concerned and furious. “I gotta say, when I’ve thought about getting you two in my shower, this isn’t exactly how I imagined.”

 

And then the two of them are kneeling, one on each side, hovering over him in all his naked and wounded glory. The cool metal of Bucky's left hand is a stark contrast to his warm right as the man easily rips through the remains of plastic wrap left over Tony's aggravated wound and begins to inspect the damage.

 

And then it gets loud in the enclosed space.

 

“What the fuck, Tony?” Bucky is yelling, “Why didn’t you call for help? You tore your fucking stitches!”

 

“What were you thinking?” Steve is yelling at the same time as Bucky. “You know you are _not_ supposed to be standing on your leg for at least another two weeks!”

 

Their voices bouncing off the marble sends a new throbbing through Tony’s skull. That along with the fact that the wonder twins are both hearty and hale, fully clothed, and are currently staring down at his battered and bruised, and currently very naked ass is enough of a punishment for him at the moment without the added migraine.

 

“Okay!” he shouts over them, “I get it, Tony bad! Tony very bad! Now, if one of you could kindly hand me my sleeves and a fucking towel maybe I can survive with a tiny thread of my dignity intact while you carry my sorry ass out of the shower!” They stop shouting, but the looks of fury are still there and maybe, just maybe Tony whines a little, and says in a small voice, “It’s fucking cold down here.”

 

So it's a little manipulative, but one has to use what one has at one's disposal when at such a disadvantage.

 

Another set of pounding feet heralds the arrival of Bruce who looks relieved to see the two soldiers are already there. He offers a small nod to Steve, who is currently grabbing the stack of towels Tony had left by the shower entrance.

 

The pile of fluffy cotton is immediately placed next to Tony's prone form while Steve goes back for Tony's sleeves, which are farther away with the pile of Tony's clothes on the counter. This means for a moment or two Bucky has towels, but Tony is keeping his hands firmly on the floor because - _soulwords_ \- and then Bucky just shrugs and starts toweling away like he deals with idiots who fall in the shower on a daily basis.

 

Tony feels his eyes widen and looks to Bruce, but the man just stares at him, his own eyes crinkled in what looks suspiciously like amusement.

 

Tony presses his forehead to the tile and wills his body to not ignite in flame because this so fucking _embarrassing_.

 

And then Steve is back, another towel present along with the sleeves, and _then_ Tony has _two_ super soldiers drying him off with extreme gentleness and he has to hope his body won’t ignite for completely different reasons.

 

At least his current weakened state will probably keep him from embarrassing himself with an unwelcome erection.

 

He lifts his head and grits his teeth before he carefully dries off his forearms and tugs the sleeves on - giving Bruce another glare as he does so - making sure everything is covered.

 

When the toweling has finally stopped  Bruce moves around the three men in the floor to squat near Tony's injured thigh. Bucky shuffles over to make room, but he doesn't stand or give any indication of moving farther away.

 

Bruce's fingers are gentle as they press around the injury but it still hurts like hell and Tony can't stop a shuttered inhale at the light pressure on the inflamed and heavily bruised area.

 

It doesn't escape anyone's notice.

 

“Sorry, Tony,” Bruce murmurs.

 

“S’ok. It's my own damn fault,” Tony answers quietly, pressing his head into his folded arms. Suddenly he feels strangely ashamed of the whole situation. He won't say he's not a glutton for attention, but the permeating air of _care_ surrounding him feels odd. He would be more comfortable if they were all angry and bitching at him. And that says a lot about of things about Tony Stark he really doesn't feel like thinking about right now. Instead it just makes him want this to be over so he can lick his wounds in private.

 

Steve shuffles a little from his place on Tony's left side, saying apologetically, “We're going to have to turn you over.”

 

Tony nods, still hiding his face as he tries to mentally prepare himself and figure out how best to do this. Namely how to do it without everyone getting an eyeful.

 

A few years ago he'd have been more than happy to walk through Times Square in nothing but sneakers - because, barefoot in New York City? _eww_ \- and a smile, but now...

 

Tony’s actually not sure if he’s more concerned with covering his arc reactor and scars or his junk.

 

“There's a robe in my closet, could someone get it for me?”

 

Steve gets up, fetching it and returning to Tony's side where he and Bucky both help Tony put it on since his place on the floor leaves him at an awkward angle. They go slowly, guiding his arms in one at a time, careful of the mottled and bruised skin and his newly bashed elbow. Bruce helps settle the fabric over Tony's behind, folding it up so it won't touch his injured thigh.

 

Then comes the fun part.

 

Turns out Tony almost covers neither his junk nor his chest because the black sparkles are back in his vision as soon as Bucky and Steve turn him over on his back. Tony feels a bit green around the gills for a few seconds, and when his vision quits swimming he is glad to see that by some stroke of fate, he actually managed to cover all of his crotch and all but a small ‘v' of his chest.

 

He shifts the robe closed all the way, covering the blue glow of the reactor and the small slice of scars, hiding it all.

 

Of course he knows they know it's there - it glows for god's sake, and Tastee Freeze had even seen it up close and personal- but he still isn't quite prepared to find out the two men's reaction to seeing it unveiled in all its freakish and morbid entirety. Especially since his recent injury has given a pretty large reminder of his relative squishiness.

 

Bruce pulls Tony back to the reason for his current situation by pressing around the front of the exit wound and this time Tony can't hold back the tiny noise that escapes.

 

“Well,” Bruce starts, “the good news is I don't think it's necessary to put in more stitches, but the bad news is it's now even more important that you don't use the leg. As a matter of fact, I'm confining you to the bed for the next week.”

 

“But-” Tony begins to argue.

 

He's cut off by Bucky, the man's voice a low growl of “Shut it, Tony.”

 

For a moment Tony considers pressing the point, but the tight expression on Bucky's face makes him stop.

 

“I need you guys to get him to the bed,” Bruce says. “Try not to jostle him if you can help it.”

 

Steve and Bucky share a look between them and nod before they each grab a corner of the towel they had rolled Tony onto and then the only thought in his head was how being moved the few yards to the bed had him feeling almost as bad as the initial injury.

 

He guessed he wasn't pumped full of adrenaline like he had been at the time.

 

By the time the pair of soldiers get him in the bed, Tony is breathing heavy and his entire body is trembling. Bruce starts cleaning and dressing his leg, and Tony knows he's being as gentle and efficient as possible, but when he's finished Tony feels a cold sweat on his brow and he's sure he must look like shit because none of the three men offer any more admonishment. Instead they fuss around him, Steve making sure his leg is positioned correctly and getting another warm washcloth to gently wipe away the sweat that had formed while they moved him to the bed. Tony let's him, for once so exhausted that he doesn't try to joke with any of them as they move around his space, each casting worried glances back and forth.

 

He doesn't say anything when Bucky sets one of the painkillers and one of the antibiotics along with a bottle of cold water next to Tony on the bed. He just picks the pills up and uncaps the bottle, offering no complaints when Bucky has to help hold it steady so Tony doesn't spill water as he drinks.

 

“Sir,” JARVIS says, his voice soft in the silence of the room, “I suggest you eat something so you don't get nauseous from your medication.”

 

Just the thought of food makes him feel a little queasy, but one look at the faces around him keep him from offering any objections.

 

Bruce disappears and then comes back several minutes later, a mug of steaming soup in hand which he balances on the blankets carefully so Tony can pick it up. Bucky sits near him again, wordlessly steadying it each time Tony sips from it until almost all of it is gone.

 

Tony doesn't say anything when Steve sits on his other side, the now cool washcloth in his hand which he runs over Tony's face and neck one more time before he retreats to the bathroom to toss it in the chute.

 

Tony feels lost, drifting in a haze of pain throbbing deep in his thigh and bashed elbow. The mood in the room is subdued, sitting strange against Tony's expectations of other towards himself.

 

He doesn't say anything when, after Bruce leaves, Steve kicks off his shoes and gingerly climbs into bed on the side near the door and Bucky mirrors the actions to climb in on the other.

 

*****

 

_Warm._

 

It's the first thing Steve senses as he rises through layers of sleep.

 

He burrows deeper into the source of it, a solid body next to him with which he is carefully entangled.

 

Steve comes to awareness slowly, slipping up from sleep to wakefulness softly and pleasantly.

 

He feels so wonderfully warm and content, something he hasn’t felt since waking up from the neverending bitter cold of the ice.

 

He remembers why he is so warm when he opens his eyes and is greeted by a faint blue glow that illuminates Tony's bedroom. He leans up slightly from his position pressed low into Tony's side, looking down where his arm is thrown around the other's stomach and mirrored by a familiar metal one that rests right alongside.

 

He feels the weight of another arm pressed against his back from where Tony had shifted in the night to cradle Steve and he can see that Tony's left hand lies atop Bucky's, the metal and flesh digits mingling.

 

And he just _knows._ This is right. This is good and perfect and where they all belong.

 

He falls back asleep with a soft smile on his lips.

 

*****

 

The first day after Tony fell in the shower was supposed to be team movie night. Bruce had been very clear in his instructions about Tony being confined to bed so it was unanimously decided to bring movie night to Tony.

 

It was also unanimously decided that movie night would instead be a movie marathon day, as everyone wanted some down time with their favorite billionaire genius. Snacks and soda were dispensed as everyone piled up in Tony's monstrous bed, each person mindful not to jostle Tony even as they clambered over and around each other to get comfy.

 

Thor wound up sandwiched between Nat and Clint, with Bruce stretched across all their laps, mounds of pillows poked and prodded into perfect placement for everyone's comfort.

 

Steve and Bucky were relegated to the head of the bed, Tony placed securely between them. Steve had no problem with this, and settled in next to Tony happily, making sure his leg was propped up and snacks were well in reach. Steve smiled a little as Tony grabbed a popcorn bowl and balanced it in his in his lap, ensuring Bucky could reach it as well. Steve watched as Bucky gave Tony a grin and reached up, carding his fingers through Tony's fluffy curls which caused the man to practically purr as his eyes drooped closed.

 

After everyone was comfortably situated _Snow White and the Seven Dwarves_ was projected onto the wall by Jarvis and Bucky stopped scratching at Tony's head to grab a handful of popcorn and snuggle down beside him.

 

Steve popped some chocolate covered raisins in his mouth, enjoying the warmth and comradire of having all his important people close. He glances over and sees Bucky’s rapt expression wondering if he remembers the film from his and Steve's past.

 

Steve himself is certainly remembering the first time he had seen this movie, back when he was still in his old body, him and Buck sitting side by side, sharing a soda and laughing at the antics of Dopey.

 

He knows this new memory of watching it with all these people he has come to love will be equally cherished. He smiles to himself and focuses on just existing in the moment.

 

It's about half an hour into the movie when Tony's warm weight presses  more insistently into his side. He looks down to see Tony listing over into him, his head bobbing in the universal sign of fighting off sleep. Sleeping is something Tony had been doing a lot of lately, between the painkillers and his body trying to heal from the beating it had taken. Goodness knows he could use more of it even when he wasn't recovering from an injury.

 

As Tony leans further into him, Steve's heart stutters a bit and he slowly, carefully reaches out to pull Tony into him. For a second, he feels Tony tense up, startled eyes turn up and surprise is evident in them and Steve worries that he's overstepped his bounds. But then, Tony nuzzles his head down into Steve's chest and just _melts._

 

Steve isn't thankful for Tony being hurt, not at all. As a matter of fact, even thinking about it fills him with a cold rage and an even colder sense of helplessness when he remembers watching Tony streak towards the ground.

 

Still, there's no denying that since his injury some invisible barrier that had always existed between them has been broken. But this conscious movement into Steve's orbit is something new, something that hasn't been given to Steve before.

 

It's amazing. An engulfing sense of thankfulness, of absolute gratitude overwhelms him and he pulls Tony more firmly into him, burying his nose in the ridiculous curls that have emerged in the few days Tony has gone without using product to tame them. He skates his hand up and down Tony's back, being extra gentle and mindful of the bruising still present.

 

Tony hums in contentment and Steve, full of an unspoken emotion, feels moisture gather in his eyes. A warm hand moves to rests on the back of his neck and he turns a little to see Bucky watching them, a soft look in his eyes that has been far too rare these days.

 

Tony sinks further into him, the soft susurrus of his breathing alerting the super soldiers to his falling asleep. Bucky smiles, happy and content, squeezing the back of Steve's neck briefly before he reached for the popcorn bowl that was now leaning precariously on Tony's lap and transfers it to his own. Assured it was no longer in danger of dumping food in the bed, Bucky gives a last caress to Tony's curls and settles back to watch the movie, trusting Tony to Steve's care.

 

Around him, everyone laughed and chatted as they followed the adventures of Snow White and her friends, the voices familiar and comforting as they wash over him. He laughs along with them, still cuddling Tony to his chest, occasionally carding through his hair just to hear the little sounds Tony makes, even in his sleep.

 

But Steve can't help but wonder.

 

How long had Tony been willing to give him this? Because sitting here with his new family, Steve is absolutely certain Tony has only been waiting for him to reach out. He curses himself, thinking of all the time wasted, time he could have been using to touch Tony, to reach across that last divide and make him realize how precious he was to Steve.

 

Only...he hadn't really been pushed into the truth until shortly before Bucky had come back. And then, he had only realized just how much he wanted because Bucky had been allowed it first.

 

No, ‘allowed’ was wrong...Bucky had needed it, and hadn't been afraid to take it when offered. Steve had been the one to put Tony into a place where he likely hadn't felt such closeness would be appreciated or well received.

 

Now that the invisible line had been crossed though, Steve would be damned if he let go.

 

*****

 

Tony really wishes Steve would _let go._ No matter how many times he had dreamed of sharing a bed with Thing One and Thing Two, he had never expected them to be quite so...clingy.

 

He was starting to think maybe the serum had involved the incorporation of octopus DNA with how they clung to him, especially at night.

 

The first few days this had been fine; he woke feeling nice and toasty, surrounded by strong arms and bracketed in safety.

 

But now, his body was getting plenty of rest, and certain parts of his anatomy were beginning to recognize a completely different aspect that being sandwiched between two superhuman beefcakes indicated.

 

In other words, he desperately needed to rub one out in the privacy of his bathroom before he humiliated himself. Only, Steve was practically grafted to his side and any wriggling out of the hold was proving entirely futile on Tony's part.

 

In a moment born of sheer inspiration, he reached up and pulled out a single hair, then carefully tickled it along Steve's ear. To his surprise, it actually had the intended effect and Tony's waist was free from the grasp of one super soldier as Steve rubbed at his ear and rolled a bit into his back.

 

One down, one to go.

 

Tony was pretty sure the tickling wouldn't work on Bucky, who had long hair already and was sure to be used to wayward strands. So instead of going that route, he grasped the sheet, hammock style, around the metal arm so the pressure wouldn't change too much and carefully lifted it away as he began to wiggle upwards towards the top of the bed.

 

The way Steve slept, low on Tony's left side to avoid knocking into his injured leg but still allow for maximum octopus-like cuddling, meant that over his head was the best option for escape.

 

If he could just get past Bucky’s metal arm...which was fucking _heavy. Damn._ The weird angle he was lifting it with wasn't helping, and he slowly lowered it to take a break.

 

He was pleased to see his efforts had moved him about a foot and some change and that his concentration on his escape had also somewhat lessened the urgency of his erection.

 

Of course that was when Bucky, apparently not satisfied with the new placement of his arm, moved it once more to rest over Tony, but instead his hand wound up in the exactly worst place possible.

 

Tony gave a tiny gasp as a metal hand cupped right over his his cock.

 

“Whazit?” escaped in a sleepy mumble from Bucky as his fingers flexed and just like that, Tony’s waning erection becomes anything but. He makes a noise, something small, but shocked and needy and Bucky’s sleepy consideration vanishes with it and he leans up, fully awake to peer into Tony’s face.

 

“Tony?” he questions and Tony can feel heat rise in his face as Bucky begins to understand the situation. However, instead of snatching his hand away as Tony expects him to, his lips turn up in a smile that sends sparks down Tony’s spine. Bucky does move his hand from cupping Tony’s cock, but it's just to instead trace two fingers down the bulge pressed to the front of Tony’s underwear, never looking away from Tony’s face.

 

“Where were you going, doll? Trying to go take care of something?”

 

“I-I was just, uh, going to the bathroom.”

 

“Mmm hmm. I see.” Fingers slipped up and down, teasing so very softly and Tony instinctively reached down to wrap his fingers around a metal wrist.

 

“ _Oh god._ ”

 

“You know you're not supposed to be walking around yet,” Bucky husked out. “Isn't that right Stevie?”

 

Tony’s eyes widened in shock and he whipped his head to look down at Steve, who sure enough, was watching Bucky’s slow teasing with a hungry expression and a slack mouth. He looks up as well, apparently with great effort, and when he locked eyes with Tony, he slowly licked his lips and Tony felt his cock give an obvious twitch under Bucky’s fingers.

 

His voice was sleep rough and full of something Tony had desperately tried to strangle the hope for too many times to count when he said, “That’s right Buck. No walking, doctor's orders.” Steve turned back towards Tony fully then, moving up the bed and placing a hand on either side of Tony’s supine form. He keeps moving up, arms bracketing Tony's body, until he’s even with Tony’s face. “Really, sweetheart, how ‘bout you just let us take care of you, huh? You can do that right?”

 

Tony is staring at him, his mind stuck turning  ‘sweetheart’ over and over in his head like an equation without a solution as Steve begins to descend, his gaze on Tony’s lips.

 

There's a stutter in Tony's heart as his mind clicks back on track and he realizes that Steve is about to kiss him.

 

“You know,” says a familiar voice from the doorway, and suddenly Tony is alone on the bed, lips disappointingly unkissed, as both men sharing it with him go straight into battle mode, “I thought I was done walking in on you in the middle of getting freaky, but I guess I should know better.”

 

Anyone else would have gotten an invitation for a hasty exit or else, but this isn't just anyone. Tony sits up, a huge smile on his face as he opens his arms and exclaims, “Rhodeybear!”

 

His oldest friend is standing just inside the doorway, clearly having just arrived to the tower, his arms crossed and an unimpressed glare directed at the two super soldiers who are currently standing between him and Tony.

 

Completely ignoring what is sure to be a pair of awkward boners, defensive stances or no, Rhodey walks right past the two super soldiers and climbs into bed, hugging Tony fiercely but carefully before he settles in in Steve’s former spot.

 

Rhodey had seen Tony at his absolute worst, at his weakest and most wounded. Even more so than Pepper has, so Tony's own awkward erection isn't even a blip on his radar.

 

“J,” Rhodes says as he gets himself comfortable while Steve and Bucky look on incredulously, “start us up a movie from my playlist. Make it a surprise.”

 

 _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_ starts up and Tony curls into him. By the time they get to - and quote the entirety of - the swallow scene, Tony realizes the other two men have exited.

 

He's listening to Rhodey continue to quote the movie line by line and trying not to freak out too much at what had been happening in this bed only a little while ago.

 

With a signal from Rhodes, JARVIS lowers the volume a bit. “Give us a heads up if they head back in, ok?”

 

“Of course, Master Rhodes,” the AI answers. “And may I say, it's very good to see you.”

 

“You too, J. Though I wish my visits could be more for fun than because someone almost got themselves killed again.”

 

“Don't we all,” Jarvis answered with a tone that implies a long suffering sigh.

 

“Hey! It wasn't my fault this time!” Tony interjected, poking Rhodey hard in the side.

 

His friend just laughed and rubbed the spot, smiling and saying, “Ok, ok!”

 

Not entirely mollified, Tony stuck out his lip in a pout. “No ganging up on me. It's not fair.”

 

“Speaking of ganging up, you gonna tell me what that was all about?”

 

Tony looked over at his dearest friend, the smart ass reply dying on his tongue when he saw concern in those dark eyes despite the levity of the tone. He thought it over for a few moments, trying to come up with a logical answer.

 

Nothing came to mind.

 

Sure, Bucky and Steve - and even Winter, who remained silent even while checking in every so often - had been very present and caring since his injury, but he still had been shocked to hell with their actions from just a little while ago.

 

Honestly, the arms length Steve had always been careful to keep up around Tony had eroded so quickly he was still reeling from the emotional whiplash. Even so, Tony was no idiot, and if they were willing to offer him physical affection, he was not turning it down.

 

But the truth was, the _physical_ affection from this morning had caught him completely off guard. In spite of all his longing, he had only been hoping to enter into the easy camaraderie of sharing space like he had with the others in his found family. After all, Steve still only wore Bucky’s words out for anyone to see, and he had never indicated he wanted anything more from Tony than friendship, no matter how much Tony had hoped and dreamed.

 

At least, he had before Bucky. And somewhere between inviting them to live in the tower just to keep Steve near, and inviting the damaged former assassin into his workshop to compare scars, he had been careless enough to fall in love with all of them.

 

Now, every moment his heart lurched with that love, it was immediately followed by a brutal enough stomping to such inappropriate feelings to shove them back down so far they were wedged right between his guilt and daddy issues.

 

But the physical intimacy of friendship, of found family...that was good and safe and something Tony could wrap his feelings in to keep from breaking his own heart.

 

Only, this morning even that safety net had been snatched away.

 

He must have been quiet for too long, because Rhodey reached down and pulled his hand away from where he was clutching at the arc reactor, his eyes grave and worried as he tangled their fingers together and asked, “Tones? You okay?”

 

Tony stared at him, gripping his hand like a lifeline as some welling panic that he would lose it all over his stupid biological reaction this morning.

 

Oh god. What if they left because he turned them down? What if they we're only humoring him because they felt bad? What if they were laughing at him right now, making love and talking about how Tony couldn't ever measure up to them?

 

“Whoa! Hey, Tony. Tones! Calm down, ok? You're scaring me.”

 

“Rhodey, oh god, what did I do?” His breath is coming too short and his heart is pounding all wrong. “I ruined everything! I-I should know better- Nobody really wants Tony Stark. I mean, you've seen my words, what kind of person gets rejected by two soul mates!”

 

“Now that's complete bullshit,” Rhodey grates out, his free hand coming up to pull Tony’s back against his chest as he clambers up behind him. “What I walked in on just then was certainly not a rejection. Or if it is, I've been sorely shortchanged in that department. According to Pepper, she had to pull out her Petrifying Pep routine just to make Steve take a damn shower before he kept vigil at your bedside after you got hurt. Even Natasha caves before Pep reaches that level.”

 

Tony can feel his panic eroding a bit as Rhodey keeps holding him and talking.

 

“And just now, both of them jumped up mid debauchery to put themselves between me and you. Sure, maybe Rogers is one of those frontline defender types, but there are far better vantage points in this room for a tortured ex POW to take up in defense, but where did Barnes plant himself? Right out in the open, weaponless and without cover. That is a decision of the heart, not the tactical.”

 

That...that actually made sense. Tony turned the words over in his head, poking and prodding at what he knew of Winter and Bucky from hours of watching the beauty of him running simulations put together specially by Jarvis.

 

He used the environment to his advantage whenever possible. Brute force and and head on were used when necessary, but he preferred to work from the most advantageous position first.

 

“Now,” Rhodey continued, some of the vehemence dissipating along with Tony's fear, “I don't know if you've watched the footage from that fight, but I have, about a thousand times, and I can tell you that when you went down...Jesus, when Steve finally got to you? The look on his face is not that of a man who has any interest in rejecting you. And up until you just started overthinking, you didn't appear to be too interested in rejecting either one of them...Unless I really misread that whole situation I walked in on.”

 

Tony knew Rhodey was right. Sure, he’d been hella confused, but he certainly wouldn't have stopped Steve from kissing him or Bucky from touching him. Even if he couldn't understand why they would have that kind of interest in him when they had each other.

 

Not that he was unaware of his own appeal; he was handsome enough, wildly intelligent, pretty damn fit, and filthy stinking rich.

 

But he wasn't a good person. He remembers Natasha talking about blood in her ledger, and as much as they all had some of that on their past, his was so full of it the ledger was sunk to the bottom of a lake of blood.

 

Yeah, he had tried to change his ways, tried to make up for some of his past sins of negligence, but he wasn't like Steve or Bucky. He wasn't even like Winter, who had his sins forced upon him by others.

 

And still, the universe had crafted some cosmic joke by making him and Steve soul mates when Steve already had a perfect match in Bucky.

 

So what if they had both seemed intent on sexing him up just an hour ago? He had no place between them.

 

Did he?

 

“I swear, Tones...if you don't get out of your head,” Rhodey interrupted.

 

“You don't know what I'm thinking,” Tony grumbled, “I might be dreaming up the warp drive. You could have just set us back another hundred years in space travel by interrupting me!”

 

“Kind of like how you're setting back your own love life? Seriously, I know this is difficult for you to grasp, but have you considered _talking to them?_ ”

 

Tony picked at the sheets. He hated how small his voice was, but he knew his Rhodey wouldn't judge him for it when he quietly asked, “What if they don't want me? There so...they've crossed time for each other. Steve saved Bucky from decades of brainwashing. How can I fit there between them? Sex is one thing, but I don't think I could take it if I found out they were just trying to spice things up and I'm the easiest option. I-I _love_ them Platypus. What if they don't love me?”

 

His best friend in all the world looked deeply into his eyes and flicked him on the ear.

 

“Ow! You son of a bitch! I'm injured!”

 

“Yeah, I'm thinking it's brain damage as well. Jesus, how do you cram so much crippling insecurities and ‘what ifs’ into such a small body, I'll never understand.”

 

“ _Small body…”_ Tony started, but Rhodey just rolled right over his intense indignation.

 

“I'd be willing to bet all further upgrades to War Machine that they most certainly won't reject you, but, if for some harebrained reason they do? Even though it's not going to happen, let's just entertain your seriously low self esteem for a moment and say they reject you...You'll live. You'll hurt like hell for a while, you'll pull away from everyone and hide behind work and science and new inventions that will revolutionize something or other, and you'll move on.”

 

Rhodey reached down, stopping Tony's hand where it was worrying at the sheets. He twined their finger together on each hand before wrapping them around him in a hug, hooking his chin over Tony's shoulder as he spoke.

 

“Tony, you are easily the strongest damn person I've ever met. Some of that is just sheer stubbornness to prove yourself, but that's still strength. I've watched you survive heartbreak and betrayal time and time again, and you know what? You _still_ have love and trust to give. I don't think I could let people in again after some of the shit you've been through. But you did, you do. If anyone is undeserving here, it's those two idiots.”

 

“You have to say that,”Tony answered, smiling through misty eyes. Rhodey was the best.

 

“I don't have to say a damn thing.”

 

Tony squeezed their hands together and snuggled down into the covers again.

 

“Thanks honeybear, I love you.”

 

He could hear the smile on his voice as Rhodey kisses the top of his head and says, “I love you too, Tones. Now be quiet and watch the damn movie.”

 

*****

 

Rhodey watched a couple of movies with Tony before he gave in to his whining to be allowed to bathe. Under pain of being confined to bed even longer, the genius was fairly well behaved as Rhodey helped him to the tub and made sure he remained sitting on the newly bought shower seat.

 

There was much bitching, but honestly, he wouldn't expect anything less from Tony. After he was clean and ensconced in what was obviously borrowed sleep pants and hoodie - and it wasn't hard to figure out who those belonged to - Rhodes wrangled Tony back into bed. After washing down a dose of painkillers and antibiotics with a smoothie, Rhodey had JARVIS queue up another movie and about half an hour into _Mulan_ , Tony was conked out.

 

“Hey, J?”

 

“Yes, Master Rhodes?”

 

“Is it alright to leave him sleeping like this? I don't want him to have a nightmare while I'm gone.”

 

“I believe Sir will be perfectly fine; however, Dr. Banner has just ended a rather long period of work in his lab. He is en route to the penthouse even as we speak. I believe his intention is to sleep for a while himself, so I see no reason why he wouldn't keep Sir company while they both rest.”

 

Rhodey nods to himself. He hates to extricate himself from Tony snuggle time, but he needs to have a conversation with a couple of idiots. Not that Tony isn't an idiot too, but Tony is _his_ idiot, and that makes all the difference.

 

He waits until Bruce enters - stumbling and exhausted and so similar to the way Tony looks after a lab binge that Rhodey has to bite back a grin. He exits the bed carefully indicating that Bruce should take his place. Bruce gives him a thankful nod, but crosses around the bed to Tony's uninjured side.

 

Rhodey watches, not even trying to hide his smile as the two men gravitate toward each other before settling back down into the covers. With a last glance over his shoulder he goes to talk sense into two super soldiers.

 

To his surprised, he finds them waiting in Tony's kitchen. The pair of them are sitting at the table stirring what looks to be long gone cold oatmeal with twin looks of apprehension on their faces when Rhodey enters the room.

 

He lets them stare in silence as he moves to the fridge. In no hurry, he pokes around until he spies what he's looking for. He grabs the red bottle of pomegranate juice and pops the cap off, sipping as he turns back to face the men still sitting at the table.

 

Bucky, who Rhodey had only met in passing earlier that morning, though he's heard Tony blabbering about enough to feel at least some familiarity with him, says “We don't drink that juice,” with clear confusion in his eyes.

 

“What,” Rhodey asks, taking another big sip, “this juice?”

 

He watched as Steve and Bucky exchange glances, an entire conversation between them with just movements of eyebrows and facial twitches.

 

Steve apparently loses, because he turns back with stiffness in his spine.

 

“Tony gets mad if you drink that juice.”

 

Rhodey just stares at him, wondering what went down that these two men - immensely, obviously uncomfortable men, who are aware they are currently facing Tony's oldest and best friend - would still try to warn him not to drink juice that had been declared off limits by Tony.

 

He can't help a smile as he takes another long gulp, relishing the glare that is now coming from the most recent addition to Tony pack of super misfits.

 

He lets out a satisfied _ahh_ before he recaps the bottle and stows it on the counter.

 

“No,” Rhodey says. “He gets mad if _you_ drink that juice maybe, but that's because it's _my_ juice. It's always _been_ my juice, and it will always _be_ my juice. And, if you get your shit together and get with Tony, it's _still_ gonna be my juice.”

 

He watched the pair closely as that sank in, waiting to see how they took his not so subtle claim on the juice. The metaphor juice which obviously stood for his piece of Tony.

 

Rhodey had been around Tony the longest of anyone. He had seen people systematically try to separate him from the people who cared about him, had watched as Tony had been hurt and used by people he had trusted, and he wasn't going to allow that to happen again if he had any say.

 

Not that he thought these two superhuman idiots were planning on doing something like that, but there was no sense in letting it be unsaid.

 

“Tony is a giver, which you should know by now. It's not a thing people who aren't close to him get to see, but it has unfortunately been ingrained in him that people always want something from him. Time. Money. Their fifteen of fame. What he can offer by his genius and intellect. And all of that is part of him, sure, but it's so rare for people to accept those things as part of the package that comes with him and not the other way around.

 

“Now, I have on good authority that you two boys have been on the up and up, but just so we are crystal clear...If you hurt him - and I mean willfully, spitefully, and with the intent to cause him pain, not the shit you are all going to have to work through if you make a go of a real relationship - I will hunt you down with my not inconsiderable abilities and make you regret it. And after I've beaten you to within an inch of your miserable lives, Pepper and Jarvis will make it so you can't go anywhere, can't do anything. They will wipe your existence from the world so thoroughly, you won't be able to get a pack of gum from a convenience store in the ass end of nowhere. There is no place on God's green earth you will be safe if you fuck my Tones over.”

 

At that, he pushed off the counter, clapping his hands together as he did so. The two super soldiers jumped at the sound, their eyes wide as they looked at Rhodey’s smiling face in a new light.

 

“Now that the obligatory death and ruination threats are over, how about I tell you a little about how to win over our boy.”

 

*****

 

Bucky walked back into the bedroom where Tony was now turned sideways on the bed, propped up on a stack of pillows behind him. In their absence, he had acquired a tablet on which he was currently tapping away. He looked up at their entrance, his face going carefully neutral.

 

“Hi fellas,” he said, his voice subdued and cautious.

 

Bucky heard Colonel Rhodes voice in his head.

 

_‘Be crystal clear, as in clear to the point of bluntness. Tell him exactly what you want and how you feel. Be ready for him to misunderstand and twist your meaning anyway.’_

 

Ok. They could do this. He could feel the solid presence of Steve at his shoulder, close enough they were a united front. He glanced at him and received a nod. Bucky took a breath and faced Tony where he was still propped up on the bed, tablet now clutched in his fingers.

 

“Me and Stevie have something to say. We're crazy about you. We want to be with you.”

 

There. Couldn't get more blunt than that.

 

Tony was staring at them, his eyes darting between Bucky and Steve.

 

“Umm, okay...Look, I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty crazy about you two, too. But I'm not sure why you want to be with me, you two could have anyone you wanted-”

 

“Tony,” Steve interrupted, “we don't want anyone, we want you.”

 

Again, that shocked look that broke Bucky,  Winter, and Steve's hearts.

 

“But...why?”

 

 _‘Do not underestimate_ _how little Tony actually values himself as a person when it comes to relationships. He's been hurt and used by people he trusted. It will take a lot of reassurance and time for him to stop seeing himself as expendable.’_

 

“Why?” Steve asked, his voice incredulous from his place at Bucky’s side. “ _Tony,_ you are amazing. You built a place for us to all come together, a place where we can be the people behind our masks. I don't think you know how much that means to us all, how much it meant to me.

 

“When I woke up, I was lost in this world, alone and wounded, and even though I knew you were my soulmate, I still hurt you and pushed you away. And you still opened your home to me. To us all. You give and give, to us, to the Avengers, to people you see hurting.

 

“Sweetheart, you try so hard to help where you can. More than just throwing money at the problem, which is what some people do when confronted with problems they see. If course, you offer money as well, but you invest time, sweat, blood...You give _so much._ Little pieces of yourself are spread into everything you touch. None of us here have ever had someone who gives to us like you do. And for me, well. You gave me a home, not just a place to live, but that feeling I thought I could never feel again. Not after everything.”

 

“No, Bucky gave you that.”

 

Steve just smiled softly, moving to sit near Tony's feet as he shook his head in a gentle denial.

 

“No, Tony. You gave me that before I ever knew finding Bucky was more than something I would daydream about. Don't get me wrong,” Steve said, as he turned to catch Bucky’s eye for a moment before turning back to the man on the bed, “I love Buck, and I always will, and finding him filled in a piece of my soul, but even without him, you were becoming the my heart called home.”

 

Bucky slid onto the bed as well, gently placing his left hand over Tony's ankle.

 

“Me, too. I was lost, broken and running. And, sure, this idiotic self sacrificing moron woke me up, but I was still wandering in the dark. Winter and me were all tangled up inside. Still are, but I don't think that will ever really go away.” Silent agreement echoed in his mind. “But you were the first person to reach out to me, knowing what we were, knowing how we’d been twisted and shattered and forced back together all wrong.”

 

He looked at Steve, apology in his eyes, “Even Stevie here couldn't really understand that, that the Bucky from back then died before he ever fell from the train. That this new thing I am is something stitched up like Frankenstein’s Monster. Not just the outside, but the inside parts too. I'm all salvaged from the deaths I've given and the ones I've gone through.”

 

“ _Bucky,”_ Steve breathed out, but Bucky just kept talking.

 

“But you, Tony, you saw me. You saw _us_ . And - I'll never forget it - you invited all my pieces into your home. And you offered me a place in it, and room to make it _mine._ You trusted me and you trusted Winter, back when I didn't trust him and back when he barely trusted me or Stevie. You gave us back something that was beaten and bled out of us long ago. You gave us hope, Tony.”

 

Bucky watches the way Tony turns faintly pink while he and Steve are confessing, but he also see the furrow between his eyebrows. Tony looks between the two of them before speaking again.

 

“Um, okay. I mean, you’re both welcome for all of...that,” and he waves his hand around as if encompassing everything they had just said. “But that doesn’t mean you, like, _owe_ me or anything. I just did what anyone would do…”

 

Bucky just stares at him as Tony continues to ramble on about...something, Bucky is honestly struggling to hear over his own incredulity at the moment, positive Winter and Steve are going through the same bewilderment. He hears another of Rhodes warnings.

 

‘ _Do not give him time to overthink or he_ will _come to the wrong conclusion. And remember, Tony’s brain works real fast, so overthinking is nearly instantaneous compared to the rest of us.’_

 

Steve seems to remember the same thing, because he gives a soft huff before he reaches out and pulls Tony - who is still babbling, and continues babbling for a few seconds even though having his lips pressed to Stevie’s does make him impossible to understand - into a kiss.

After a few seconds, Tony finally gets with the program and starts kissing back. He must not be too shabby if the groan from Steve is any indication. Bucky watches as Tony finally engages fully, his hands sliding up over wide shoulders to pull Steve in even more, even as he tilts his head to be more accommodating to the press of Steve’s lips to his own.

 

Bucky just watches, feeling intense interest from his other half as Steve’s hands begin to wander down from where they are cradling Tony’s face, skirting over his neck and down his chest to rest on his waist. Bucky's never noticed before how big Steve's hands are compared to Tony.

 

Bucky watches them for a few minutes, his own desire growing as the two of them pant softly and clutch each other. There's no jealousy, just growing anticipation of when he'll be in Steve or Tony's place. Even as he thinks it Steve pulls away from Tony, leaning back in to press a soft, closed mouth kiss to plush lips as Tony slowly opens his eyes. The pair turn towards him, and Tony’s eyes are heavy lidded, his lips are pink and plump, and when he reaches out, there’s nowhere to go but straight to him.  There’s a soft whisper of ‘Bucky, please’ against his lips, and then his arms are full of Tony Stark.

 

Their kiss is different, somehow more desperate, more needy as Tony’s hands grab at him and one winds into his hair, pulling it into wild disarray. Tony’s mouth is hot and open, offering everything and demanding more. He whimpers when Bucky takes and gives, biting into his lower lip before sucking on it firmly. He hears a soft ‘fuck’ from Steve, who has pressed in close to run his hand down Bucky’s back even as he cradles the back of Tony’s head, fingers intertwining with Bucky’s own there.

 

It’s so _good_. Tony is so sweet, open and giving, and Steve is close, closer than they've been in seventy years. And suddenly, all he can think is ‘why'?

 

And then Tony is nudging him back, kissing along his jaw for a few seconds as Bucky turns towards Steve, and all that space, that chasm between them that has existed since he woke up to himself…

 

It just evaporates.

 

And then Bucky is kissing Steve, open mouthed and hot, and it's like coming home, except it's not. It's more like finding a new place that can become home _again._ Because Steve may have been right next to him, but they couldn't navigate their way back to this, to the physical side of their bond, and as Steve moans into Bucky’s mouth, tasting like a mixture of him and Tony, Bucky know. He _knows._

 

Tony is what they were missing, the bond and the bridge they needed to cross over to the other side since their old selves died all those years ago. The connection that tangles all up between them, tying all of them together in a knot of love and devotion that no one can ever untangle them from.

 

Steve pulls back some minutes later, turning to Tony who is watching them with an expression that manages to be both rapt and completely wrecked.

 

“Holy shit,” is all he says.

 

Bucky slides his hand down to slip around Tony's waist, noticing Steve moves to mirror him and how much smaller Tony's waist looks with both of them holding him like that. Tony has a hand fisted in each of their shirts and he's panting like a bellows. Bucky’s eyes wander over him and can see the bulge at Tony's groin and feel the sympathetic pulse of his own cock where it's pushing against the confines of his underwear.

 

Then Steve is kissing Tony, and then Tony is kissing Bucky, then Bucky and Steve are kissing again. And Winter is watching, highly intrigued, but not quite ready to jump in between them all.

 

When Tony's hand slips from where it's cradling Bucky’s jaw and slides down over the front of his shirt to tentatively curl over the bulge in his pajama pants, Bucky can't help but shove the smaller man back into his mass of pillows.

 

Which actually turn out to just be a _few_ pillows stacked onto a completely buried and sleeping Bruce.

 

The room devolves into chaos and screaming as the scientist - who had no problem sleeping through an enthusiastic make out session as long as it isn't directly on top of him apparently - Hulks out and grabs the perceived threats, one in each ginormous hand.

 

The threats in this case turn out to be both Steve and Bucky.

 

Other than the initial jostling from Bruce's transformation, Tony is completely unharmed since Hulk has a protective streak towards him a mile wide.

 

“Whoa, Mean Green!,” Tony was saying loudly from his spot on the bed. “Easy on the super soldiers! They come in a set, if you break one, the value goes way down!”

 

Even squeezed in Hulk's grip, Steve manages an indignant, “Hey!”

 

Hulk of course ignores him in favor of leaning down so he's somewhat level with Tony. “They no hurt you?” he asks, clearly skeptical as he eyes over Tony's rumpled form.

 

“Nope. Not even a little bit,” Tony offers with a smile as he pats Hulk on the cheek.

 

Hulk grumbles a bit, the sound sending vibrations all the way through Bucky's body, but he seems to believe Tony after a few more seconds.

 

He stands back up, bringing the super soldiers up close to his face, his eyebrows lower and he glares at them and says, “Better not.”

 

Bucky gets the threat loud and clear, as does Steve if the way he nods solemnly is any indication. The giant sets them down and promptly begins shrinking, a rumpled Bruce Banner left in his place. He's only wearing the specially designed shorts that grow and shrink with his transformation. The three stare at each other for a few silent moments before Bruce turns towards the bed where Tony is smiling sheepishly.

 

“Really, Tony?” Bruce says, hands on his hips as he stares down the other genius. “Why in the world would you think it's a good idea to get frisky when I'm _still in the room!_ What if the other guy had squashed you! And I'm not into exhibitionism either!”

 

Bucky could tell Bruce was gearing up for a lecture, but he didn't get the chance because Tony looked up from beneath his lashes, his face full of genuine remorse as he quietly said, “I, um. I actually forgot you were here.”

 

It should be insulting, to have one's presence totally forgotten, to have someone ignore your very being to the point that your existence in their space fades to nothing.

 

But Bucky and Winter remember the way their every move had always been tracked, they remember the awareness that followed every breath, every twitch, because losing track of them could mean anything from grievous harm or death.

 

So Bucky understands the way Bruce stutters to a halt, the way he deflates from his building ire when Tony tells him he had actually forgotten his presence in the room.

 

Instead of continuing with his lecture, Bruce just shakes his head and smiles softly.

“Of course you did, you idiot,” he says with a little laugh before going over to check that Tony had indeed escaped the unscheduled Hulk out unscathed.

 

Bucky glances over at Steve, reaching out to tangle their fingers together and watching as Steve tried to hide the small shock when he realizes Bucky had reached out with his metal hand. His smile is blinding as he gives the hand a firm squeeze before they move back to the bed, standing behind Bruce as he looks over Tony's injuries.

 

“Everything looks fine,” he declares as he stands.

 

“Sure does,” Tony says as he waggles his eyebrows, shooting a meaningful look at Bucky and Steve. Of course, since it's Tony he doesn't stop there. “You too, Green Bean. Glad to see those new shorts we designed work so well, though I kinda miss the show that used to follow an appearance from the Big Guy.”

 

“Tony!” Steve chides, though Bucky can't tell if it's from embarrassment on Bruce's behalf or jealousy.

 

Either way it turns out that Bruce gets the last laugh because when he reaches the door he tossed over his shoulder, “Oh by the way, no sex until you're fully healed.”

 

And then he's gone, the door closing on Tony's long wail of, “Nooo! Brucie, whyyyy?!”

 

*****

 

Epilogue

 

The debrief had been short, probably because Steve had been in no mood to linger over questions that could wait until later. He had made it perfectly clear that he wanted to get back to Tony and Bucky and no one was going to stop him from doing that, especially not when it was something that could wait for another day.

 

Steve peeled off his uniform, letting it fall to the floor before he stepped under the hot spray of the shower. He braced himself against the wall and let the scalding water flow over him. He hadn't even broken a sweat on the mission, but he still felt dirty somehow.

 

Steve lathers up a washcloth with the soap he prefers. Tony is always teasing him about how cheap it is compared to what he uses, but as the crisp clean smell fills the shower, it's something of a comfort as he thinks on the mission.

 

Fury had sent them to what Shield suspected was an abandoned Hydra base. Of course when dealing with Hydra it never did to underestimate, so they taken the whole group of Avengers. In the end it turned out the base was indeed abandoned, but there was something else there that they hadn't expected.

 

They completely cleared the rather small facility, gathering anything that looked like it could be important, but there wasn't much.

 

At least until Tony’s scanners picked up what turned out to be a hidden room. The three of them - Steve, Bucky, and Tony - had entered the room together, Tony taking point with Steve and Bucky flanking on either side.

 

He had no idea what to expect when they  entered the room, but it wasn't what they had found. The room was all chrome, pieces of ancient medical equipment sparse throughout. Once it had probably been bright and sterile, but now it was musty and stale.

 

And taking up the center of the room was a chair straight out of nightmares, Bucky's and Winter’s nightmares to be specific.

 

Immediately upon seeing it Bucky had gone completely still, not moving, barely breathing, and not responding to either him or Tony.

 

The look on his face had been indescribable, something Steve prayed he would never have to see again; a blank terror and - worse - acceptance. Such a rage filled him that for a moment he longed for them to find some Hydra members, just so he could satisfy the welling need to break something that had crept steadily up his spine.

 

Then, without a word, Tony had turned one of his weapons on the chair and melted it to slag. When there was nothing left but an unrecognizable smoking, stinking pile of metal and wires, he calmly turned to Steve and pressed a small device in his hand,”Burn it down,” was all he said before he moved to Winter - because it was totally Winter now.

 

Tony had retracted his faceplate and taken Winter's carefully blank face in between his gauntleted hands and kissed him softly before resting their foreheads together.

 

“Winter,” Tony said, and it didn't escape Steve how Tony used the name the Asset had chosen for himself over a year ago, “No one is going to put you back in that chair, baby. Not while Steve or me are still breathing. And I promise you, I will kill anyone who ever tries. Okay?”

 

Steve shuddered at the memory, the way Winter had looked between them, weighing them against all the pain and memories he had endured. Because now, looking back, Steve was certain that for a few seconds when the chair had been revealed, Winter had thought they had brought him here to put him in it.

 

Tony had taken Winter's hand - Winter always gravitated towards him more anyway - and led him back out, leaving Steve to set the charge after a more thorough sweep of the room.

 

The team had been subdued on the flight back to the tower, everyone giving the three as much space as they could. Steve had stood guard, providing a bulwark between their space at the back of the quinjet as Tony had stepped out of the armor and urged Winter to sit before plopping down in his lap and leaning into him.

 

Steve had watched as Tony worked his magic, even smiling a little as he proved why he had earned the affectionate moniker of ‘Winter Whisperer’ by managing to coax Bucky’s alter ego into losing some of his rigidity. Once Tony had deemed Winter calm enough to feel secure without Steve standing guard, he had called Steve over to sit with them. It still was gratifying to know he was trusted like that by Winter and Bucky, that each of them believed Steve would protect them.

 

Steve sighed as he shut off the water and stepped out of the shower to towel off. He dressed in a soft tee and pajama pants before brushing his teeth. With one last glance in the mirror he made his way to the bedroom to find his two lovers already snug in bed.

 

Tony was in the middle, as always, and he flipped the covers back, revealing himself wearing one of Bucky’s hoodies. Tony had a tendency to wear their clothes when he needed to know they were safe or wanted to feel close to them. At least Steve knew he wasn't the only one needing some reassurance.

 

Steve smiled a little as he climbed in, accepting Tony's kiss as Winter watched from where he was wrapped around the smaller man like an octopus. He waited until Steve was settled before he reached out and tangled all their fingers together. Steve looked down at where their hands were joined - scarred and tan, cool and metal, pale and strong.

 

They would be fine, he knew they would. He gave their entwined hands a soft squeeze and, to his surprise, found himself succumbing to sleep.

 

*****

 

Winter felt Bucky go dormant the moment the chair came into sight. It wasn't something that had happened in a long time, or something that happened often.  Without the other presence in his head he felt...alone.

 

He stood there, rooted to the spot as thoughts of betrayal swam through the murky cloud of abject terror his mind had become.

 

 _‘They wouldn't. They love me. They wouldn't.’_ rolled through his mind, but until Tony turned his weapons on the chair that was an exact replica of ones that had taken everything from him, over and over, he didn't quite believe he wouldn't be forced to sit in it and be erased all over again.

 

He still was unable to look away, even when the instrument of his torture is nothing but a pile of vaguely metal debris. Not until his line of sight is broken by the concerned gaze of warm brown eyes. Tony had kissed him and promised him no one would ever put him back into one of those cursed chairs ever again.

 

And he believed him, because Steve and Tony loved him and Bucky, had been with them for over a year now and are his champions and companions in turn.

 

Still, the phantom fear follows him even as Tony leads him to the quinjet, on the trip back to the tower, follows them as Tony coaxes him to join him in the shower while Steve goes to debrief.

 

Winter just goes through the motions, letting Tony turn him this way and that, barely listening as Tony fills the silence with soft chatter.

 

They finally end up in their enormous bed, and Winter knows no one else will be knocking on their door to chase away nightmares tonight because the team will know they need to be alone together.

 

Tony climbs in and lets Winter pull him close, wrapping him up as he settles in with his back to the wall. JARVIS lowers the lights to dim and puts some mindless sitcom on in the background. Winter just holds Tony as he drifts through disjointed memories, but it's not until Steve joins them that either he or Tony find sleep.

 

His dreams are anything but restful. Nightmares mix with memories and churn into ice cold terror.

 

_There were tests he had failed, tests where someone gained his trust and then turned on him, delivering him for punishment no one should endure._

 

_More than once he had been tried this way, until he knew any outstretched hand was only there to to turn and strike him down._

 

_Bright lights overhead, blinding him and smudging the form who leaned over him to tsk at his foolishness, reminding him that no one would help him. No one was coming to save him._

 

_He belonged to Hydra and he would be reminded that over and over until it sank in._

 

He awoke to someone leaning over him, the snarl of his memories and terror spurring him on as he caught the man ( _Stevie. Steve...no, Stevie is small, but Steve is big. Who is real? - Cold hands, cold eyes, cold bands over his arms and legs, hot electricity through his brain.)_ and clamps his metal arm tight around his neck, wrenching his arm behind his back as he pins him to the wall.

 

The lights come up too fast and he's blinking, struggling to find the exit as he presses more firmly against the windpipe of the man caught in his arms.

 

There's another voice in his brain, telling him they know their captive, that he's safe, but the memories of small and blonde and fierce don't match to the others rattling around like coins in a can ( _Small and flaxen haired next to him - him? - kicking the ringing tin can down a sidewalk in a place from long ago. What's real? Punishment awaits._ )

 

“ _Bucky,”_ the man in his arms wheezes out, but the Asset ( _Asset? What about Winter?)_ just shakes him and wrenches his arm up further, threatening to dislocate his shoulder.

 

His mind is like a broken film reel, flashing and disjointed as he builds into a panic and desperately wants to avoid the pain he knows is coming.

 

And then a sharp, _“Hey, Tastee Freeze!”_

 

Slowly, careful to keep the pressure on both windpipe and twisted arm, he turns to face the interruption.

 

There's a man on the floor, tangled up in blankets, staring at him. He's on his knees, a hooded sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder as he reaches out, palms up.

 

“Hey there,” he says, voice too friendly for the situation ( _he's always like that. Always?_ ) “How ‘bout you let up on our favorite Steve? He's a one of a kind issue, we usually like to keep him in mint condition.”

 

He tightens his grip instead, earning a jerk and wheeze.

 

“Whoa! Whoa whoa whoa. Easy big guy. It's okay. You're safe.”

 

The lights flash minutely and the Asset growls and presses further into the wall.

 

“No J! Don't let them in, I've got this. Just give them a feed and tell them to wait,” the man on the floor says before he turns back.

 

“Winter, baby, I know you're confused, and that's okay. But I need you to look at me, okay? Just look at me, you know me, I know you do. Just focus on me, alright?”

 

( _Warmth. Warm brown eyes, warm scarred fingers, warmth over him, around him and he’s buried in heat, hands tangled in his, squeezing as his chest is covered in splashes of more warmth. Pleasure and intimate touches and trust._

 

_Can't trust! Pain and punishment. The chair)_

 

It's another test. Isn't it? Doomed to repeat and fail. He doesn't want to forget.

 

He can feel the doubt as he sobs aloud, facing the man with such love in his eyes where he kneels in the floor, reaching, his hoodie ( _Winter's_ ) slipping further off his shoulder.

 

“You're not real! You're a fake,” he chokes out. Punishment is coming, he knows. ( _They wouldn't, they won't_ ) “I don't want it, I don't want it,” he sobs.

 

The man on the floor freezes, his face a picture of absolute shock.

 

And then he smiles, wide and tremulous, incredulous laughter bubbling up as he begins to tremble heavily.

 

“You…” he murmurs, and the hoodie slips down further, bathing the room in soft blue light.

 

( _A room full of the future, warmth and acceptance. Gentle finger on scars and a blue light sunk in his chest. Kisses in the dark, lit only by that beautiful blue glow.)_

 

It's real. _It's real._

 

Winter lets Steve go and crumples to the floor.

 

*****

 

Tony knew the mission was going to mess with Bucky and Winter as soon as they saw what was in that hidden room. It was obvious he was right when Winter was still driving by the time Steve finally joined them in bed.

 

Still, he hadn't expected Steve to wind up in a brutal headlock when he tried to wake Winter from his nightmare. Tony himself was not too enthused about going ass over teakettle to the floor in the ensuing scuffle in which Steve got the short end of the stick.

 

But that was okay, Steve was extremely durable and, at the moment, Winter was going for containment rather than damage.

 

Plus, Tony knew J would be alerting the team, so Thor and Bruce would be there shortly in case drastic measures were needed from the heavy hitters.

 

He honestly didn't think they would be, but he wasn't willing to risk Steve or Bucky and Winter.

 

He just needs Winter to focus on him, to really see him. He knows Steve is a part of tangled memories, even though Bucky and Winter have worked through all of that, but there is no changing the fact that Steve is still a fixture that crosses both timelines. There are still so many thing they don't know when it comes to how Hydra tortured and erased Bucky and Winter's memories.

 

Tony can guess from Winter’s current reactions that things are all jumbled up right now. But Tony is from this half, from this new life and even though Bucky knew Howard, neither he nor Winter ever confused the two of them at all, so he only needs to get through the panic Winter is dealing with because of the nightmare and waking to Steve over him.

 

Of course his soft cajoling is ignored, so he resorts to one of his favorite pet names, which does get Winter's attention, but then he’s tightening his grip on Steve which is- okay, not ideal. No matter how durable  Steve is.

 

Tony's not entirely sure what he says, but at least Winter is focusing on him still, and he doesn’t appear to be trying to squeeze Steve until he matches his uniform any more.

 

J lets him know the cavalry has arrived, but Tony knows it will get ugly fast if Thor or Bruce have to contain Winter, and he knows he can reach him, he always has been able to before.

 

Though to be fair, Steve wasn’t in a headlock those times, but still.

 

Tony tries again, making sure to let everything show on his face, because he can see it, the terror and the haunting of terrible memories shining out from Winter’s eyes. It’s one of the things they share, one of the reasons Winter trusts him so much, that wounded soul that links them.

 

“Winter, baby, I know you're confused, and that's okay. But I need you to look at me, okay? Just look at me, you know me, I know you do. Just focus on me, alright?”

 

And it’s working, Tony can tell, because the haze of confusion is leeching away as Winter finally fully takes him in, but it’s not gone completely, not yet and Winter’s voice is so terribly heartrending as he breaks into sobs and says, “You're not real! You're a fake. I don't want it, I don't want it.”

 

And then Tony’s brain takes a hiatus because those words- _those fucking words…_

 

He wants to shout, he wants to scream, he wants to cry and sing and dance, but his body goes on strike, shaking like a leaf as his mind stretches from one end of the universe to the other.

 

Someone is laughing, but it’s not the laugh because something is funny, it’s one of those laughs someone does when their brain can’t do anything else.

 

Those words are part of something he’s always hated, a part of something that left him broken inside from their place on his arm. Somewhere, his memory supplies him with the first of those words, a defining ‘No.’ that he was sure set the tone for the rest. A single ‘no’ spoken to him that first night when he had dragged Bucky down to the lab to help him escape for a while.

 

Like a freight train- no...Like the Hulk, everything slams back into him and he’s watching two very concerned super soldiers stare at him from across the room where they are each leaning against the wall. _Steve’s the right color again,_ his brain supplies, followed immediately by a completely useless, _I can’t believe Winter has never spoken directly to me before. We’ve been together for over a year now. Weird._

 

_Get it together brain._

 

He tries to talk, but for maybe the first time ever, he can only repeat the same phrase over and over like a broken record, _“It’s you, it’s you…”_ stuck in his mouth on repeat as his lovers ( _his soulmates_ ) begin to exchange worried glances as they make their way to him.

 

“Hey,” Steve is saying, his eyes wide and concerned, “I’m okay Tony, sweetheart, he didn’t hurt me, just got a little winded for a second.”

 

And then Bucky’s chiming in, because apparently now it’s Winter’s turn to hide.

 

“He’s sorry, doll. He’s so sorry he scared you, and I am too. Please, forgive us, we're so sorry,” Bucky adds, because of course Winter thinks Tony is flipping out because of him. Well, okay, maybe he is _but not because Tony is fucking scared of him._

 

His fingers shake, or maybe that’s just his entire body doing that, as he reaches to pull off the hoodie he wore to bed. He struggles with it for a second before hands come to assist him, two sets of blue eyes looking at him worriedly when he is finally free. They’d probably think he’d lost the farm if they hadn’t seen him do much crazier things than this before, but they still watch him warily as he reaches for the soulsleeve that is always and ever present, even though long ago he had stopped wearing the other one except when he wasn't at home.

 

Steve’s eyes widen almost comically as Tony hooks his fingers in the snug fabric and pulls it off, baring skin that hasn’t never been seen by anyone still living but Rhodey.

 

**No. You're not real! You're a fake. I don't want it, I don't want it.**

 

The room is silent, even Tony’s verbal record skip gone as he stares at Bucky and Winter, because he knows both of them are focused completely on his newly bared arm. He stares as a tremulous smile curves on his lips, feeling his own form in answer. Metal fingers cradle his wrist while flesh ones touch him reverently, tracing the long line of text from his wrist to elbow.

 

“You're our soulmate,” Bucky whispers, disbelief in his voice. “I never thought- after all I’ve done…” And then Tony is being kissed to within an inch of his life, lifted and swung around the room while the pair of them laugh and cry. He finally sets Tony on his feet, only to have Steve come up behind him and wrap his arms around them both, smiling to shame the sun as he holds them in his arms.

 

“I can’t believe it,“ Tony breathes as he looks at the words he has always hated and hidden, transformed in the blink of an eye. “For so long, I thought my soulmates would hate me.”

 

“Oh, sweetheart,”  Steve whispered in his ear, but Tony had long ago absolved him of any guilt regarding the _‘Impossible_.’ he wore on his right wrist.

 

“What I’m trying to say is, they don’t change anything, because you were already my soulmates, and even if someone else had said these words tomorrow, that wouldn’t have changed.”

 

Tony smiled up at his soulmates - his _three_ soulmates, holy shit - and lets himself just revel in the moment, feeling safe and cherished and so very loved. And then hands began to wander in distinctly more - ahem - loving ways as clothing is being discarded left and right in a hurry.

 

“Man,” he said from his place in an increasingly more naked super soldier sandwich, “I’m such a lucky bastard.”

 

Of course, they get interrupted because apparently all the other Avengers are still watching the live feed.

 

“Hey!” Bruce shouts from the hallway, “No sex until I check Steve for injuries!”

**Author's Note:**

> So I hope you all enjoyed this! I would love to hear from people! Comments and kudos are very appreciated, and please be sure to show my artists some love as well! 
> 
> Also, I may add a smut chapter at a later date, if anyone is interested.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [WIS Bang Fanart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13696653) by [NovaRain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovaRain/pseuds/NovaRain)




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